Chapter One

Kayla

They called him Frog. For years he had endured the most vicious pranks and bullying at the hands of his relentless classmates, even though he was kind, funny, and oddly intriguing. A month ago, Frog disappeared, and everyone forgot about him. Nobody cared that he was gone. Except me.

“Hey Morrison! Look up!”

The warning came a millisecond before the volleyball hit me in the face. Coach Hartwell blew her whistle and walked briskly up to me.

“Morrison,” she said sternly, “why don’t you sit out for the rest of practice? Maybe if you watch long enough you’ll remember how to play the game.”

I shrugged and walked over to the bleachers while another girl took my place. I felt strangely unconcerned by Coach Hartwell’s comments. I should have been offended, or at least motivated to pay attention, but I felt none of these things. I just sat there and watched the rest of my team go through various drills and plays, keeping my mind almost blank, which was a skill I had mastered over the past few weeks. There were really only two things that disturbed my apathy these days. A nauseous feeling whenever I saw Wyatt Brooks, and a subtle longing whenever I thought of Frog.

It seemed like it had been ages since I had last seen him. I went over that day in my mind often, that evening when I had come to free him from the display case. It was impossible to forget the bizarre attraction I had felt for him and the overpowering emotions that ran through my body when I kissed him. When he didn’t show up for school the next few days, I thought he was sick. I called and texted him a dozen times, but he never responded. After about two weeks I gave up trying to contact him, but I still wondered what had happened to him. A small part of me thought it might have had something to do with me kissing him. It was a little ridiculous to imagine that I had that kind of power over him, and yet...

“Okay, Morrison, what’s going on with you?”

Coach Hartwell’s gravely voice interrupted my thoughts. She stood in front of me with her hands on her hips and an impatient expression on her face.

“Maybe I’m getting sick,” I responded with little conviction.

Coach Hartwell cocked an eyebrow. “Well, if that’s the case, you’ve been getting sick for the past three weeks. You’re usually our best player, but lately you’ve been a limp rag. You’ve lost all your focus, all your drive.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. It was true. Lately I’d been slipping in all my activities. I had delegated a lot of my student government responsibilities to Sadie Garrett, my Junior class vice president, I was beginning to fail in my schoolwork, and I had quit the debate team. I told myself I had done it because my mom needed more help at the diner, but really I knew it was because I didn’t want to interact with Wyatt.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “I’ll do better next week.”

Coach Hartwell shook her head. “Morrison, if you don’t get it together soon, you’re off the team.”

I watched her walk away, trying to find some spark of incentive, something that would spur me to action so I could counteract her threat, but I felt nothing.

*****

“You’ve all fallen behind in the past month, and we have a lot to cover, so be prepared to work hard.”

I stared, glassy-eyed, at Mrs. Meekum, our new chemistry lab instructor. Mrs. Clements was still on suspension because of that fiasco where she nearly blew up the lab, and for the past few weeks we’d had a substitute that mostly showed us old chemistry videos. The lab was crowded since the two classes were still combined, but even with so many students in the room, there were two empty chairs. One was next to me where Miranda used to sit. She was now practically sitting on top of Wyatt, whispering in his ear while he looked smug. The other empty seat was in the back of the room, next to Milo Kowalski, where Frog used to sit.

“I’m going to give you a series of take home assignments that I expect you all to finish by next Friday,” Mrs. Meekum continued, walking around the tables and handing thick packets to each of the students. I leafed through the stack of papers, noting that I would probably do none of the assignments. Just then, the vice principal, Mrs. Youngblood, came through the door.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Meekum, but could I borrow you for a second? I just need you to fill out some quick paperwork.”

Mrs. Meekum gave us a stern glare and then followed Mrs. Youngblood into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, the classroom erupted into murmurs and groans about all of the homework Mrs. Meekum had given us. I pretended to study a poster on the wall, keenly aware that I had no one to talk to. Suddenly there was an outburst of giggles from the other side of the room. I turned just in time to see Wyatt tickling Miranda. As she tried to squirm out of his clutches, she lost hold of her pen and it rolled back near Milo’s table.

“Oh, Milo, would you mind getting that for me?” She asked sweetly.

Milo frowned for a moment, then shrugged and started to retrieve the pen. But as he leaned over, his chair came with him and he collapsed on the floor. Miranda and Wyatt burst into laughter, and more students joined in as Milo struggled to get upright with the chair stuck to his pants.

“Oops, sorry Milo,” Miranda said with a mischievous smile, “I forgot that I spilled super glue on your chair earlier.” She held up the tube of glue, which caused everyone to laugh louder.

I felt sick. I’d noticed in the past couple weeks that Milo had become a victim to the pranks that had usually fallen on Frog, and he wasn’t handling it well. He had turned bright red and was gripping the side of his table, as if trying to keep himself from losing control. Looking at him, I was filled with sudden indignation. For the first time in weeks, I was motivated to take action, to do something I’d never had the courage to do before. I stood up quickly and stomped over to Miranda and Wyatt.

“Stop it,” I hissed, leveling a nasty glare straight at Wyatt.

Most people stopped laughing, but Wyatt continued to smile at me. “Or what?” He asked. “You’ll make us all decorate for the next dance?”

There were some snickers around the room at his comment, but I ignored them.

“No, but I might put you on display,” I said meaningfully.

Wyatt stood up, his eyes roving over my entire body before he looked back up at my face. “I should have known you’d try defend him,” he said lazily. “Everyone knows you have a soft spot for losers.”

“I guess that would explain why I dated you.”

Some people gasped, but Wyatt just gave me a familiar smirk. The events of the homecoming dance rushed back into my mind, and I stepped back. His overt confidence made me lose some of mine. Thankfully, at that moment the bell rang, and the tension broke as everyone started heading out the door. Miranda shouldered me as she walked past, but it was Wyatt’s haunting sneer that affected me the most.

I turned around and saw Milo ripping the chair off of his pants, losing one of his back pockets in the process. He looked at me and gave me a sad smile, and as our eyes met I thought I could guess what was going through his mind. I wasn’t the only one who missed Frog.

Chapter Two

Frog

If anyone ever tells you that being a prince is cool, you should punch them in the throat. The past month had been one of the most rigorous, exhausting ordeals of my life, and there were a few nights that I sat awake in bed actually wishing I could be back in my high school gym class. I mean, sure, I’d suffered a lot of humiliation in there, but at least humiliation didn’t keep you up at all hours of the night and make every part of your body writhe in pain.

The last month had been torture. Literally. My parents and their royal friends had decided it was necessary to put me through every kind of agony imaginable in order to build up my resistance to the Jumerum.

“Someday they’re going to capture you,” my father had said in not so fatherly tones. “And they’re going to torture you until you give up the key to the Gulbranak.”

So I had been held under freezing cold water, pummeled by the biggest guys Gulbrania had to offer, burned by hot coals, left alone in dark caves for days on end, and forced to watch every episode of The Brady Bunch. When I wasn’t being used as a human experiment in pain, I was training with Sir Almighty Pants. (Okay, his name was actually Sir Alm Hetapats, but my secret nickname for him was one of the few pleasures I had left in life.) He spent countless hours teaching me fencing, marksmanship, and martial arts. I had actually thought I was pretty proficient in martial arts, but the multiple bruises on my backside proved otherwise.

To top it all off, I was being tutored by Zane, my 12-year-old former neighbor and bodyguard. It was really a blow to my self esteem to have to be instructed by a prepubescent kid who spent his free time making sculptures out of baked potatoes. Apparently he’d been a citizen of Gulbrania all along and was shipped over to the States a few years ago to keep an eye on me in Indiana. I spent my evenings being drilled on all the different aspects of Gulbrania: its history, its government and trade, its resources, and its enemies. Zane had smothered me with what seemed like a million diagrams detailing all the properties and applications of Gulbranak, the powerful mineral mined from the ocean floor that the Jumerum wanted to get their hands on so they could take over the world or something.

The Jumerum. Just thinking about that stupid organization made my entire body tense up. They were evidently on a mission to ruin my life. They had killed my grandfather, and because they had almost killed my father he had left my mom and me in Indiana to hide out in Gulbrania. Meanwhile, my mom lied to me about everything, pretended I had a liver disease and made me take something called dissimulation capsules to disguise me from the Jumerum. Yeah, my life was pretty messed up.

I rolled off of my ridiculously huge bed and rubbed my temples. It was four in the morning, but I was wide awake. I started pacing my room, which was housed in the castle’s tallest tower. It all seemed a little cliche, but nevertheless, I was starting to get used to this place as my new home. I had hardly left the castle since I had come to Gulbrania, and while I was a little disappointed by how archaic it all was (you had to flush the toilet with a bucket), there were some things that were actually pretty cool. Like the secret passages that tunneled between all the rooms, the awesome kitchen with every cooking device imaginable, and an observatory that was equipped with huge telescopes. My own room was big and circular, encased in big stones and rough wood, with large, arched windows facing the sea below. I glanced at the windows, caught sight of my reflection, and flinched.

I didn’t know if I was ever going to get used to the way I looked, even though it was my natural appearance. I had spent ten years looking like a scrawny, spotted geek, so it was still a little shocking to pass by a mirror and see something akin to a male model. I peered past my reflection and out to the dark cliffs and ocean waves below. I hadn’t ventured far from the castle because I had been so busy with torture and training, but it didn’t really seem like there was much more to Gulbrania than the governmental buildings surrounding the castle and a few villages along the coast. I hadn’t seen a whole lot of inhabitants on the small island. The most activity I saw was people going out in boats that never seemed to come back.

I don’t know how long I stood there staring out the windows, but I noticed the sun was starting to come up when someone knocked on my door.

“Come in,” I called, still facing the windows.

“Hey Freddy!”

I tensed. It was too early to deal with Zane. I closed my eyes until I sensed that he was standing right next to me. With some effort I turned toward him. “What’s going on?” I asked, attempting to sound friendly and failing.

Zane held out a duffel bag. “The concealment team was able to save some of your stuff before the Jumerum ransacked your old house,” he said. He set the bag on my bed and walked out of my room. I raised my eyebrows. That was the shortest conversation I had ever had with Zane. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person.

“Oh! And one more thing.”

I jumped as Zane’s head appeared through the door.

“I put some googles in that bag for you. Be prepared for a Gulbranak demonstration tonight. It’s going to be awesome!” He smiled gleefully and then disappeared again.

I sighed and crossed to my bed, dumping out the contents of the duffel bag. There was a high tech looking pair of googles, as well as a couple shirts that didn’t fit anymore, a few books and papers, and my cell phone. I swallowed hard as I picked up my phone, which seemed almost foreign now that I’d been without it for a month. I turned it on, surprised that it still had some battery life in it. I scrolled through some texts from Milo, feeling awful that I hadn’t been able to respond to him and that I had left him to fend for himself in that stupid high school, but what really got my emotions twisted up were all the texts and missed calls from Kayla.

To say that I hadn’t thought about Kayla Morrison would be a lie. There had been a few nights when she filled my mind so completely that I could almost imagine she was there in front of me. The memory of her kiss still made me a little feverish. And yet, all of my experiences in Indiana seemed like they belonged to someone else, and on some level, they did. I was a different person now, with a different body and different responsibilities. I felt numb as I read through Kayla’s texts. There were several asking me if I was alright and where I was, and one where she told me that we had gotten an A on our world cultures project, even though I hadn’t been there to present with her. The last thing from her was a voicemail, and I pressed the button to listen to it.

“Hey Frog, I, um... really hope you’re not dead, that would be awful.” There was a pause as she took an unsteady breath. “Look, I just want you to know that if I did anything to offend or hurt you, I’m really sorry. I’m going to stop bothering you with all my texts now, because you never respond, but if you ever get a chance, give me a call. I... I miss you.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. Saying that she missed me was almost as good as her saying that she loved me. For a moment, I was tempted to call her back, to tell her everything, but I hesitated. I could tell her all about what had happened to me and who I was and where I was, but then what? Would she even believe me? Would I be able to prove I was telling the truth? Plus, she was never going to come to Gulbrania, and I didn’t know if I would ever make it back to the States. I could call her, but what would be the point?

I tossed my phone in the duffel bag and fell back on my bed, cursing the Jumerum for making my life so complicated. If I had stayed in Indiana, if I had stayed the way I was, I might have actually had a shot with Kayla Morrison. She might have fallen for that skinny, nerdy guy that I used to be. Now I looked like a movie star, and I didn’t stand a chance with her. Yep. My life was definitely messed up.

Chapter Three

Kayla

“Hey Kayla, while you’re at it, could you make a grilled cheese for table four?”

“Sure,” I replied, still staring at the hamburger patty sizzling on the grill. When I finally looked up, my mom had already gone to the front counter to greet more customers. I sighed as I assembled the hamburger and started buttering two slices of bread. I had come to the diner early that night because I didn’t want to be alone at my house. I told my mom I had already finished all my homework, which was a big lie. I hadn’t done my homework for weeks. So I had washed all the dishes that were waiting for me, and when I finished those, I had decided to make myself a hamburger. Frank, the fry cook, was on break, so I guess my mom had decided to utilize me at the grill while he was gone.

I was about to flip the grilled cheese when I heard someone say my name.

“Kayla?”

I looked up and saw the school’s student body president, James Huckston, and his girlfriend on their way out of the diner.

“Hey,” I replied softly.

“Do you... work here?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

I frowned. I had tried so hard the past few years to avoid someone seeing me at my mom’s diner. Now it was happening, and I didn’t have the energy to come up with an excuse.

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug, “I do sometimes. My mom owns this place.”

James took a look around and nodded appreciatively. “Cool. I never knew that.” He turned toward the door. “See ya tomorrow. And tell your mom she’s got the best grilled cheese in town!” He called back before the door closed behind him.

I glanced down at the sandwich I was making, which was completely burned on one side. I promptly threw it in the trash and started on another one.

I blew out a breath. Someone had found out about me working at the diner, and it really hadn’t been a big deal. I mean, it was James Huckston, who was pretty laid back anyway, but it wasn’t nearly as mortifying as I always imagined it would be. Maybe Frog had been right, maybe I had been worrying all this time for nothing. I winced. There he was again in my subconscious. It seemed like I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I knew I needed to move on, but I couldn’t shake the desire to find out what had happened to him. I needed some sort of closure. Suddenly, I had an idea. It was a little crazy, but if it would help me get myself back together, it would be worth it.

*****

I sat in my truck, staring out at Frog’s house. I had spent the entire day trying to talk myself out of going there, and yet, right after school, I had made my way over to his neighborhood. I was just hoping for some answers, but I didn’t realize I would be so nervous. It wasn’t like I was scared that I’d find dead bodies inside, but what if I knocked on the door and Frog answered and said something like, “Dang, Kayla, could you leave me alone already?” I chuckled at the thought. Frog had always been so nice, I really couldn’t imagine him acting like that. I was also mildly alarmed that I would rather find Frog dead than find him annoyed with me.

Finally, I slowly got out of my truck and walked up to the house. I took a deep breath and made myself ring the doorbell. The next few seconds were agony, and I considered running back to my truck multiple times. But after about a minute of nobody responding, I started to get curious. I walked around to the side of the house and peered in the window. Everything looked immaculate from what I could tell. All the floors and surfaces were clean and the furniture was perfectly placed. It was almost unnatural. It definitely didn’t look like it had been lived in recently. The only thing that seemed a little odd was a large camera mounted on the ceiling in the kitchen.

“Can I help you?”

I gasped and jumped away from the window, nearly running into a woman whose hair was pulled back so tight it made her face looked stretched.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you coming!” I said quickly, stumbling over my words.

The woman glared at me. “Can I help you?” She repeated.

I glanced down and noticed that she was carrying a For Sale sign under her arm. “Oh! Are you a realtor?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I am for now, even though it’s so beneath me.”

I frowned, a bit confused by her odd response. “Okay, well, do you know what happened to the family that used to live here?”

She narrowed her eyes, almost as if she were trying to see through me. After several moments of her scrutinizing me, she lifted her chin. “I do. But I’m not at liberty to divulge that information to strangers.”

My heart soared. “Could you at least tell me-”

“Young lady,” she cut in, “if you are not interested in purchasing the house, I will need to ask you to leave, as you are trespassing on private property.”

“But I’m not a stranger, I was a friend of-”

“Do I need to call the police?”

All the hope I had just felt of finding something out melted away. I knew this lady wasn’t going to tell me anything.

“No, ma’am, that won’t be necessary,” I said glumly. I trudged back to my truck and watched the woman place the For Sale sign in the yard before I drove away. At least I had discovered that Frog had moved away, but I still wasn’t satisfied. Why did they leave and where did they go? Why didn’t they tell anyone? Why was that woman acting so strange? Something wasn’t right, and I desperately wanted to know what it was.

Chapter Four

Frog

“Ah! Make it stop! Make it stop!”

In the next moment, Zane sprayed some kind of foam on my face, and the burning sensation subsided.

“It’s a good thing you were wearing those goggles!” Zane exclaimed. “Otherwise, you might have lost your eyebrows!” He added gleefully.

I grunted and went to work wiping the foam off of my face. For the past hour, Zane had been showing me all the applications of Gulbranak, and more than once I had felt my life was in danger. So far, I had learned that the greenish metal could power the entire castle, slice through a boulder, be programmed to take on different forms, and spontaneously combust when it came into contact with any fruit. Yeah, fruit. Who would have thought?

Once I cleared the foam from my face I watched as Zane took a sample of boiling hot, liquified Galbranak, climbed up a step ladder, and adhered it to the ceiling of my room. He then embedded the end of a thick chain into the metal and held it there for a few seconds until the Galbranak cooled and hardened. On the other end of the chain was a large steel bowl, which was suspended about 3 feet up from the floor.

“Watch this,” Zane said, waggling his eyebrows in apparent anticipation. He activated his favorite robot, a squatty contraption that he called Mister Smee. The robot began to take 100 pound weights from a pile in the corner and transport them into the steel bowl. Zane really could have just asked me to put the weights in, but I knew how much he loved to use his robots.

“Isn’t this amazing!” Zane called out to me as the robot put the fourth weight in the bowl. “There’s nothing else like it!”

It was true. Galbranak truly was a miraculous metal. No wonder the Jumerum wanted to get their hands on it. I looked up and noticed that the ceiling beams were starting to groan with the weight.

“Hey Zane,” I said, pointing to the beams, “maybe you ought to stop.”

He looked up and sighed regretfully. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I just wish I could show you the full amount. Just one gram of Gulbranak can hold up to 1100 pounds!”

Just then the door to my room opened and my mother stepped in. “Sorry to cut the demonstration short, Zane, but I need to talk to Frederick.”

Zane’s face fell, but he nodded. “Sure thing, Mrs. V. Just let me break all this down and get it out of here.”

Zane operated the robot as it took the weights out of the bowl. Then he climbed up and used some kind of blow torch to melt the Gulbranak and clean it off of the ceiling. I don’t know how he didn’t start everything on fire. Finally, Zane had the robot take each weight, one by one, and place it on a cart in the hallway outside my room.

I stepped toward the pile of weights. “Here, let me help.”

Zane held out a hand, stopping me. “No no, Mister Smee can do it.”

My mother and I watched in awkward silence while the robot laboriously took each weight out to the hallway. After what seemed like an hour, the weights were all loaded on the cart and Zane packed up the Gulbranak and his tools and stepped out the door. “We’ll finish tomorrow night,” he said cheerily. “Wait till you see what this stuff does for body odor!” He said as he waved goodbye.

I shut the door behind him and looked at my mother. “How can you stand that kid?”

She only smiled and motioned for me to sit down at a small table in the corner. She had always been very tactful and diplomatic, but now I knew that these characteristics were a result of her being the queen of a small country. It had taken a while for me to adjust to the fact that my mom was not a business consultant and that my dad was not some jerk that had left his family ten years ago. Well, in reality, he had left us, but for more noble reasons than I had previously believed. He had left to protect us.

“Frederick,” my mom began as she sat down across from me, “I wanted to tell you about an important event that will be happening at the end of the month.”

“Where’s dad?” I interrupted. I’d seen very little of my father over the past view weeks, and I was a little annoyed by it. I mean, sure, he was the in charge of the country, but I’d hoped that after being away for a decade he might want to spend some time with his son.

“He’s working on a plan to capture the Jumerum,” my mom replied, stiffening slightly in her chair.

“Can I help?” I asked. “It seems like I should be doing something useful.”

My mother sighed. “Frederick, you need to be eased into this. That’s why we have you training with Alm and Zane. You’ll have a chance to participate in these affairs soon enough, but for now, just take it one day at a time. You haven’t even seen the whole country yet!”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I’m pretty sure I could walk around the whole island and visit all the villages in a couple days. It’s tiny!”

Something sparked in my mom’s eyes, but she just shook her head. “What I came here to talk to you about,” she said forcefully, “is your presentation gala.”

“My what?”

“Your presentation gala,” she repeated. “It’s a celebration where you’re formally introduced into Gulbranian society.”

My mouth went dry. “Like a debutante ball?”

My mother rubbed her temples. “If that’s the way you’d like to think of it, sure.”

“Mom,” I said, looking her in the eye, “that sounds horrific.”

“Why?” She replied in exasperation. “It’s a party all in your honor! It’s for people to see who you are!”

I winced. All I could imagine was me standing up on a stage with hundreds of people gawking at me. I’d had enough of that in high school. My mom must have read my expression, because she reached out and took my hand.

“Frederick, it will be fine. The Gulbranians are going to love you. You’re their prince, and you don’t look the way you used to-”

I felt indignation flood through me. “It doesn’t matter what I look like, mom!” I exclaimed. “A room full of people staring at you is awkward, no matter who you are!”

“They won’t be staring...” she trailed off and then took a deep breath. “It’s happening, and you will enjoy it,” she said with a tone of finality, as if she could force me to be excited about it. “But before that occurs, we need to address a few things. You need to be fitted for your royal suit, you need to go through etiquette training, and tomorrow you’re going to meet with the press.”

My head was swimming. “The press? So, someone’s going to interview me or something?”

My mom gave me an uncharacteristic smirk. “Something like that.”

I suddenly didn’t have the energy to argue. I slumped back in my chair and stared out the window at the darkening night sky.

“I know this is a huge adjustment for you, Frederick,” my mother said, standing, “but everything is going to be fine.”

It was such a vague, cliche statement, but I knew that she meant it. By the time I turned my gaze away from the window, my mom was already gone. I crossed the room and fell onto my bed, picking up my phone and settling into what had become a nightly ritual: reading through all of Kayla’s texts and talking myself out of texting her back. She had probably forgotten about me by now, so there was really no point, but I still found enjoyment in remembering those times when we had been friends, when she might have even cared about me.

I switched over to one of the school’s social media groups and saw something that made me feel nauseous. Someone had posted a video of Milo stuck to a chair in chemistry lab. While he tried to pry the chair off of his pants, the students around him just laughed. The more I watched it, the more awful I felt. It wasn’t like I had a choice in leaving Indiana, but I still felt guilty for leaving Milo alone there. A thought crossed my mind and I sat up in bed. There was really no reason for me not to text Milo. I didn’t have to tell him everything, but I could at least apologize for leaving and offer some moral support from afar. Plus, it would be nice to be in touch with a friend.

Hey, sorry I didn’t respond to your texts, I wrote, I lost my phone for a while and I just got it back. My mom’s work transferred her to Gulbrania and we had to leave pretty quick. I frowned. That was almost true. Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay.

I read through it once before I sent it. It was a pretty lame text, especially for someone who I hadn’t corresponded with in over a month, but I didn’t know what else to say. I stared at my phone for a few more minutes and then let my mind wander to things like the Gulbranak, the Jumerum, and the presentation gala my mom had just mentioned. The more I thought about that impending event, the more it seemed like it was going to be an entirely different type of torture.

Chapter Five

Kayla

I twisted my hair around my fingers while Mr. Jacobs droned on about some rare metal found in northern Europe. I generally tried to tune out in world cultures class because it reminded me too much of Frog. I was frustrated that my little trip to his house had only added more to the mystery instead of giving me the closure I was seeking. I kept telling myself to just forget about him, that I didn’t need to waste my energy thinking about the kind, funny guy that had overwhelmed my emotions despite his underwhelming appearance. But the more I tried to drive him out of my mind, the more he invaded my subconscious.

The bell rang and I took my time packing up my stuff. By the time I left the classroom, there was some kind of commotion in the hallway. As I walked toward the chaos, I saw that a large group of students was gathered around Pete Dickenson and Brian Gibbs, who were throwing a lunch bag back and forth, keeping it out of the reach of an overweight boy who was frantically trying to reclaim it.

“Here piggy! Come get your slop back!” Brian Gibbs called out, waving the bag in front of the boy before launching it over to Pete.

Most of the students surrounding the melee erupted into laughter, but a few looked uncomfortable. The spectacle spurred me to action, and before I knew it, I had stepped into the middle of the circle behind Pete Dickenson and snatched the bag out of his hands.

“What is wrong with you guys?” I exclaimed, glaring between Pete and Brian. “Do you think this is funny?”

“Um, yeah,” Pete replied with a casual shrug, but his expression held a trace of insecurity.

“Honestly? How could you be so barbaric?” I shouted, giving the lunch bag back to the boy with more force than I had intended. “What if it were you? Do you know what it feels like?” Pete, Brian, and the rest of the students in the crowd just stared at me. I was kind of losing it, but I didn’t care. The more bullying I witnessed, the more it infuriated me. “These are the kinds of things you did to Frog, and where did that get you? Did it make you feel good?”

“Who’s Frog?” Brian asked.

I felt my face flush with anger. “Who’s Frog?” I yelled. “How in the world do you not remember him? He was the tall, skinny guy everybody picked on! You turned his skin green!”

“Oh yeah,” Brian said, chuckling, “that was epic.”

“No it wasn’t!” I screamed. I noticed several people take a step back from me. “Why can’t you guys just look past someone’s appearance and get to know them! Who are you to decide that someone is beneath you, that someone deserves that kind of treatment? What benefit do you get from tormenting people when you’re not even going to remember them?”

Everyone was silent. Someone near the back of the crowd was taking a video on their phone. I was pretty sure a few of the students thought I was going crazy. Maybe I was. A few seconds later the bell rang, signaling the start of the next period, and everyone dispersed. The overweight boy murmured an embarrassed “thank you,” as he slipped by, and soon everyone had left the hallway except for Milo Kowalski, who was grinning at me.

“I knew you liked him,” he said, nodding knowingly. “You and I need to talk sometime.” Then he turned and disappeared down the hall.

*****

I was absentmindedly watching the afternoon shadows move across my kitchen counter when my mom came in the door.

“Hey, you’re home early,” I said nonchalantly.

My mom dropped her bag on the counter and came and stood right next to me. “Kayla, I just got a call from the vice principal.”

“Oh yeah?” I still couldn’t bring myself to express any emotion.

“She told me you had some kind of outburst at school?”

I sighed. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just yelled at a couple guys because they were bullying this kid.”

My mother huffed. “Mrs. Youngblood also told me that your grades have been slipping and that you haven’t been completing any of your assignments.”

I shrugged and focused on a scratch on the countertop.

“Kayla!” My mom exclaimed, grabbing me by my shoulders and forcing me to face her. “You are scaring me! I’ve noticed that you’ve been acting strange, but I just stepped back to give you space. This apathy is so uncharacteristic and I can’t stand it anymore! Please tell me what’s wrong!”

As I looked at my mom, nearly frantic with worry, something in me snapped. Every emotion I had been holding back for the past several weeks broke through my carefully crafted indifference and soon I was bawling into my mother’s shoulder. Through tears and sniffles, I told her about everything that happened at the homecoming dance, about how Wyatt had assaulted me and how Frog had come to miraculously get Wyatt away from me. My whole body shook as I recounted the events of that night, and I realized that holding in the secret for all those weeks had been eating away at my self worth and determination. As difficult as it was to tell my mom about it, I felt a small sense of freedom, like a weight being lifted off of my heart.

My mom cried with me and held me for a long time. When she finally pulled away, I could see the distress in her eyes.

“Honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said, putting her hand on my cheek. “I had no idea it was so severe, and I wish you would have told me sooner. I’m sorry I wasn’t more available.”

“It’s okay, mom,” was all I was able to say in response. I had had plenty of opportunities to tell my mom about the issue. I had just chosen to keep it to myself.

“Kayla,” my mom continued in a slightly more formal tone, “this needs to be reported. I’m going to contact the school about this, as well as Wyatt’s parents.”

I nodded. It didn’t sound pleasant, but I knew it needed to be done. My mom gave me one more hug, then stepped away to get her phone. I took a deep breath. I had taken a big step towards my emotional recovery, but I knew I still had a long way to go. I also considered the fact that the only other person who knew about my experience was Frog. Maybe that was part of the reason why I missed him so much.

Chapter Six

Frog

“There was a teenage girl snooping about the house, looking in the windows, and she seemed very suspicious. I told the king about it, but he didn’t think it was an issue! I don’t know why he won’t take these things more seriously!”

I opened the door to the training room and saw a lady with her hair pulled back into a super tight bun talking animatedly to Alm. She stopped speaking as soon as she saw me.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” I said, hesitating by the door.

The lady lifted her chin and smiled. “Not at all, dear. We were just discussing national security.”

I caught Alm rolling his eyes before he stepped forward. “Frederick, this is Tabitha Dahl, she’ll be your etiquette instructor,” he explained, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Oh,” I replied, not even trying to hide my lack of enthusiasm.

Tabitha flared her nostrils, but her smile remained intact. “I’ll be back in half an hour to begin your instruction,” she said pleasantly, then briskly walked out. Alm stared at her retreating figure, his eyes narrowed.

“I’m guessing that lady isn’t your favorite person,” I ventured, stepping into the training room.

Alm gave me a stern look. “On the contrary, I am in love with that woman.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, and with such little emotion, that I was tempted to think he was joking. But if there was anything that I had learned about the intimidating, barrel-chested man in front of me, it was that he never joked around.

“But on no condition will you repeat that fact to anyone,” he added. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Alm glanced once more at the door, then straightened and turned toward the huge rack of weapons behind him. He removed two long swords, stopping to admire them before he handed one to me. “Today, we learn the noble art of fencing,” he said with the slightest trace of a smile. “First I’ll demonstrate, then you’ll follow.”

He pulled over an upright mannequin that had seen better days and performed an intricate sequence around it, ending by slashing it across the thigh.

“Now your turn,” Alm said, looking at me expectantly.

I approached the mannequin and waved the sword around, not even attempting to do the moves that Alm had done.

“That was a valiant effort,” Alm commented, his face devoid of expression. “I’ll demonstrate slower this time.”

He went through the routine again, and I tried to pay attention. When it was my turn, I felt like I did a decent job, although I ended up cutting off the mannequin’s foot.

“Perhaps you’ll perform better in a more practical situation,” Alm said, clearing his throat. He stood across from me and held his sword at the ready. For the next 15 minutes I got thrashed by the fencing skills of Sir Almighty Pants, and the only time I was able to gain the advantage was when he got distracted by Tabitha Dahl walking back into the room. Apparently my only hope of offense was to make sure there were a lot of diversions. Now that I knew about his feelings for her, I could detect a subtle brightening in his eyes as she came closer.

“Please leave us, Sir Hetapats,” she said curtly. “We don’t have much time before the Prince’s next appointment.”

Alm dutifully put away the equipment and left without a word. I couldn’t help but think that for an etiquette teacher, she had been pretty rude to him. As soon as the door closed behind Alm, Tabitha circled around me, looking me up and down and making me feel like I was an item to be auctioned.

“There’s a lot of potential in there,” she said, seemingly to herself, “but right now it’s trapped in all that angst and insecurity.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m being honest, and my honesty will benefit you if you pay attention to me.”

“Uh...”

“Close your mouth,” she commanded. “You should never leave it hanging open like that.” She took a step back. “Do you always wear pants like that?”

“You mean, sweats?”

Tabitha wrinkled her nose. “What an abominable term. You’ll need to be fitted for a completely new wardrobe. Your body is singularly stunning, and your clothing should accentuate those features, not hide them.”

I felt my face go bright red. I didn’t know if I could handle much more of this lady’s comments, or her observations.

“Now, show me how you shake hands,” she said, extending her hand to me. I shook it quickly and stepped back. “No, no, no,” she reprimanded. “You are the Prince of Gulbrania, you can’t shake someone’s hand as if you’re touching an eel! Come here.” She grabbed my hand. “Your grip should be firm and assuring. You need to communicate that you know who you are and that you are fully present for this interaction.” She broke her grip. “Try again.” I shook her hand again, making sure to put some strength in my grasp and hold on for a few seconds. “Look me in the eye,” Tabitha instructed, “and smile.” I obeyed, and she finally let my hand go.

“Good,” she said. “Now I’ll inspect your walk. Please proceed to the opposite corner and then come back.”

I swallowed. I really didn’t want my every move scrutinized, but I forced myself to walk forward. When I returned, Tabitha was frowning.

“You need to put your head up and your shoulders back. You look as though the ceiling is going to fall in on you at any moment,” she observed. “You need to show forth some confidence, young man. Don’t you believe in yourself?”

The question caught me off guard. If I had to be honest, I would say no, I didn’t believe in myself at all. I had only known I was a prince for a little over a month, and I was constantly filled with doubt about if I could really handle it all.

Tabitha put her hand on my shoulder, and I was surprised to see kindness in her eyes. “You don’t need to answer that question now,” she said. “I know that you’ve been very busy, but perhaps you should take some time to reflect on exactly who you are.”

I nodded. “I will.” Since she was being nice for the moment, I decided to ask her a question. “Ms. Dahl, I know these etiquette lessons are important, but they seem a little unnecessary considering everything that’s going on right now.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps that’s true,” she responded. “But the way you present yourself is extremely important and can sometimes help you to avoid social and even political battles.”

Before I could wrap my mind around what she was implying, her expression became stern and she straightened.

“But enough of sentimentality,” she said, waving her hand in the air, “we need to move on to our next topic: courtship.”

“Wait, what?”

“Courtship,” she repeated. “Asking young women out on dates.”

I winced. “I really don’t see how that’s relevant.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Successful courtship is the means by which mankind continues and thrives. Come now, how do you think you came into existence?”

“I really don’t want to go there,” I said, trying not to think about my parents.

“Regardless of where you do or do not want to go, you’ll have to start somewhere. You are required to have a date for your presentation gala, so we need to start working on this immediately.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Before I could form a coherent reply, I heard loud voices coming from behind the door.

Tabitha frowned. “Oh dear. We didn’t cover how to remain calm and tactful in the face of rude questions.” She shrugged. “I suppose you’ll just have to do the best you can.”

“What does that mean?”

But just then the door burst open and about fifty people came rushing into the room with cameras, microphones, and maniacal expressions. They all swarmed around me while Tabitha winked at me and slipped out the door. It seemed as though everyone was talking at once. The questions came so quickly I could barely keep track of them.

“Frederick! How do you like Gulbrania? Has it changed much since you were here last?”

“Have you had any recent interaction with the Jumerum? What are you doing to combat their efforts?”

“Prince Vonnegan, we understand you spent the last 12 years in the United States. Was it awful?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? The young women of Gulbrania are dying to meet you.”

“Have you spent much time with your father since you’ve come? Do you harbor any bitter feelings towards him for being away for so many years?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

I was starting to get dizzy with all the commotion and interrogation. I took a deep breath and attempted to answer their questions as quickly as I could. “Fine, I don’t remember, yes, I don’t know, no, no, no, yes, green,” I said hurriedly.

Then I turned around and bolted out the door.

Chapter Seven

Kayla

I found Milo Kowalski sitting alone at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. He raised his eyebrows when I sat down.

“You know you’re committing social suicide by sitting here,” he remarked with a small smile.

I shrugged. “I think I already did that when I went psycho in the hallway the other day.”

Milo’s eyes lit up. “That was seriously the coolest thing that has ever happened in this school.”

I smiled, glad that at least one person didn’t think I was out of my mind. I glanced around the cafeteria, noticing several people staring or pointing at us and laughing. I didn’t care. I had felt a lot better ever since I told my mom about Wyatt, but I had also reached a point where I was done with it all. Done with the drama and the politics and the cruelty... done with high school, really. I was tempted to drop out and just go test for my GED. I could probably even do a year or two of community college before I applied for a larger university.

“So that’s crazy about Frog, right?” Milo asked, taking a bite of his nondescript sandwich.

I nodded, glad that he had been the first to bring it up. “Yeah, it’s like he just disappeared.”

Milo furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, you’ve heard from him, haven’t you?”

I straightened in my chair. “No. Have you?”

Milo looked surprised. “Really? I would have thought you would be the first person he would get in contact with.”

I was starting to get agitated. “Well, he hasn’t. Have you heard from him?”

“Yeah, he texted me a couple days ago.”

Milo took another bite of his sandwich and I almost wanted to throttle him.

“What did he say?” I asked with a hint of desperation.

“Oh, he said he had to move to Gulbrania.”

“Gulbrania?”

“Yeah. His mom’s work transferred her there.”

I blew out a breath. Gulbrania. That’s right. Frog said he had been born there. “Did he say anything else?”

“He said he’d lost his phone and had just gotten it back.”

“Okay.” This information made me relieved and frustrated at the same time. He wasn’t dead, he had just moved to a country far away. He’d been without his phone all this time, but now he had it back, so why hadn’t he responded to me? Maybe he’d been freaked out by all the messages I had left.

“I still can’t believe he hasn’t texted you or anything,” Milo said, shaking his head.

Before I could respond, I heard someone come up behind me. I turned around and saw a guy from the football team holding a tray piled high with green Jell-O.

“Are you losers ready for dessert?” He asked, smiling mischievously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Milo bracing for the inevitable, but I wasn’t about to lie down and take this. Years of playing volleyball had helped me develop great reflexes and a sense of defense. I snatched the tray and brought it down to the table, then grabbed the front of the guy’s shirt and pulled down, forcing his face into the tray of Jell-O.

“We’re all full, but you let us know how it tastes,” I said, standing up and getting ready to go.

Milo made a sound halfway in between a laugh and a gasp. “You are seriously so awesome!”

*****

The sky was dark when I pulled up to the diner. It seemed like the temperature had dropped about 20 degrees that evening and I rushed into the back entrance to get out of the cold. I stood in the kitchen for a moment to warm up and to let the coziness of the place wash over me. As outdated as I thought the diner was, there was something inviting about it, with its familiar aromas and homey atmosphere. I quickly changed into my sweat pants and old t-shirt and prepared to wash the dishes.

After the Jell-O incident, the rest of the day had been pretty uneventful. For a little while I thought I might get disciplined from it, but I figured that football player wasn’t going to make a complaint about a girl shoving his face in the substance he was planning to pour on me and Milo. I actually kept finding myself thinking about Gulbrania all afternoon, and I had been tempted to ask Mr. Jacobs about it during world cultures class.

I was about to reach for the water sprayer when I heard someone come in through the back door. I must have been so eager to get inside that I forgot to lock it. I turned around and felt my insides begin to churn. Wyatt Brooks was walking toward me.

“I should have known you worked at some trash heap like this,” he said with an ugly sneer. “That’s about all you’re worth.”

“What do you want, Wyatt?” I said with surprising force. Over the past few days, I’d felt some of my fear dissipate concerning him.

“I want to know why my parents got a call from some whiny girl’s mom about how I hurt her feelings.” He stood too close to me and I took a necessary step back, trying not to remember what had happened the last time he had backed me up against a wall. “Are you really going to make a big deal out of a kiss?”

“It was more than that, and you know it,” I spat.

“Well, it should have been more,” Wyatt responded, giving me a hungry look with the eyes that I used to think were so dreamy.

“Leave me alone, Wyatt,” I said evenly. “You don’t want to cause any more trouble for yourself.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Trouble? I doubt it. My parents have very good connections, and nothing’s going to happen to me.” He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “But you? You’ll just be the weak girl who can’t handle a little heat.” He smirked and I felt every muscle in my body tense up. “No one is going to believe you,” he whispered. “Not then, and not now. Let’s see how far we can get without your ugly friend to save you.”

I should have been scared, but at the mention of Frog, I felt a surge of confidence. Even if Frog wasn’t talking to me now, he had been there for me before. He had cared enough to fight for me, and I was worth something. I was worth a lot.

Now it was my turn to laugh. What Wyatt was trying to do was ridiculous. He was on my turf and I could handle myself.

“Wyatt,” I said, straightening, “you really chose the wrong place to try and attack me.”

I reached out and grabbed the water sprayer, then turned it on full force and hosed down every inch of Wyatt until he was drenched.

“Frank!” I yelled out, and within seconds the burly fry cook appeared around the corner. “Will you please escort this young man outside, he needs to cool off.”

Frank glared at Wyatt. “My pleasure, Ms. Morrison.” He grabbed Wyatt by the arm and dragged him toward the door. Wyatt struggled against his grip, but he was no match for the older, larger man.

“This isn’t over, Kayla!” He shouted right before Frank shoved him outside and bolted the door behind him.

I knew there would be repercussions, that Wyatt would try and get back at me, but at that moment, I just let myself enjoy a sense of satisfaction I hadn’t felt in weeks.

Chapter Eight

Frog

“Frederick! Wake up!”

I sat up so quickly that I fell completely off of my bed. After I stood up and got my bearings, I found myself face to face with my father.

“Get ready, son, you’re going to tour the rest of the country.”

“Right now?” I asked, looking out the windows at the dark night. It actually wasn’t too late, I had fallen asleep early that evening because I was exhausted from Alm’s rock throwing training, but I still didn’t think that seeing Gulbrania at 9 o’ clock at night would be very effective.

“Am I going to be able to see anything?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

My father chuckled. “Oh, you’ll see it,” he replied with a half smile. “Put some warm clothes on. Meet me downstairs where you’re ready.” Then he walked out the door without any more explanation.

I sighed. I put on a sweater and a coat and tried to tell myself that this was a good thing. After all, I had been wanting to spend more time with my father, but honestly, I wasn’t really looking forward to it. My father had been absent from my life for over ten years, so every time I interacted with him it was kind of awkward. Plus, there was the fact that as king of Gulbrania, he expected so much from me even though I’d only known I was royalty for a little over a month. How was I supposed to know how to negotiate a trade deal? Or revise laws? Or navigate a code of ethics? For most of my existence my prime goal had been to avoid getting locked in a bathroom stall. I’d never imagined that one day I’d be responsible for a small country.

I pulled on some boots and checked my phone before I left my room. There was a message from Milo, asking me for the third time why I hadn’t texted Kayla yet. I smiled and shook my head. It had been great corresponding with Milo again, but when I had decided to reach out to him, I hadn’t considered that he and Kayla might be interacting with each other. Milo had told me about how Kayla had been lashing out at bullies and that she had been asking him about me. I decided that I would text Kayla, but it had been so long that I just didn’t know what to say. Plus, I think I was still a little nervous about the whole situation.

I tromped down the long, spiral staircase that led to the front entryway of the castle, where I found my dad in the middle of a hushed conversation with Alm. When they saw me, my dad handed him an envelope and Alm quickly walked down the opposite corridor.

“All ready?” My dad asked, rubbing his hands together in apparent anticipation.

“Sure,” I replied. “Are we going to take the helicopter?” To me, this seemed like the only reasonable way to explore the country at this hour.

“No. Follow me.”

He walked out the huge wooden doors of the castle and I walked after him. I decided not to ask more questions, because my dad clearly wasn’t going to divulge any details. Outside the castle, we were met by two large bodyguards who fell in step behind us. The air was cold and we all walked in silence for a few minutes until we reached the castle docks and my dad started to get into a row boat.

“Really?” I asked. “This is how we’re going to tour the country?”

“Frederick, just trust me,” he responded. His tone was reprimanding, but his eyes shone with excitement.

I shrugged and stepped into the boat, followed by the guards. We pushed off into the choppy water, and the guards took care of the rowing for us. I couldn’t help but think that we all looked incredibly ridiculous, with the four of us crammed into a small row boat. I guessed these were the kind of amenities available to the king of Gulbrania.

I noticed a bruise on my father’s chin, and unable to bear the silence anymore, I decided to attempt conversation again.

“So, how’s everything going with the Jumerum?”

My father stiffened, but to my surprise, he didn’t brush aside my question. “We believe we’ve been able to identify all of the members,” he began. “We captured seven of them in an operation in Finland last week and they have been imprisoned, but we haven’t been able to get them all in one place. It would be dangerous, yet ideal, for the whole organization to come to Gulbrania. That way we would have the advantage of fighting them with all of our resources.”

I raised my eyebrows. My father had never spoken so candidly to me about anything, especially his prime enemies.

“Is there any way I can help?” I offered.

My father gave me an odd stare, then looked away. “Soon, Frederick. Soon.”

Okay, so he’s back to being cryptic again, I thought. Just as I was getting ready to settle into more silence, my dad spoke up again.

“By the way, Frederick, I’ve never told you how impressed I am with your dancing abilities. It’s an excellent form of exercise, and it improves your agility.”

I nearly choked. Had my mom told him about that? Was he making fun of me? I had been careful to keep that hobby a secret. “How... how did you...?

He smiled. “There’s something I should have told you a while ago, son, and I’m afraid you might be a bit put off by it. Regardless, you deserve to know.” Now he was the one who looked uncomfortable as he took a deep breath. “There was a small camera installed in the basement of the house in Indiana that sent a private feed back to me.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Calm down,” he said, holding his hand up. “It was only on for about an hour every evening, nothing was recorded, and I wasn’t able to watch it every day.” He sighed. “It was an invasion of your privacy, I know, but I wanted to be able to check on you and watch you ... grow up while I was gone.” He looked away, and I thought I saw the beginning of a tear forming at the corner of his eye.

I opened my mouth, and then shut it. On one hand, I felt violated, but on the other hand, I was a little touched that my father had wanted to a part of my life, albeit in a creepy, illegal sort of way.

“Ah, we’re almost there,” my father announced, perhaps to dispel the awkward mood.

I looked up and saw a strange wall of fog. Nowhere else was foggy except for directly in front of us.

“We generate the mist as an extra security precaution,” he explained.

I nodded, even though I had no idea what the fog was securing. We passed through and on the other side was a large cove, looking very out of place sticking up in the middle of the ocean. Unsurprisingly, we rowed straight into the cove and docked next to a level ledge.

“Follow me,” my father commanded, stepping out onto the ledge. We walked through a short tunnel and came to what appeared to be an elevator. “Here, take this,” he said, handing me a small pill.

“What is this for?”

“It’s for your ears,” he explained. “The pressure can be pretty intense.”

I swallowed the pill, along with a dozen comments about how bizarre this tour was turning out to be. The four of us entered the elevator, and with a big grin, my father pushed a large button on the wall.

The elevator doors slammed shut and we started to descend so rapidly I had to grab onto the walls to keep myself from toppling over. Down, down we went for what seemed like an eternity. My head was spinning with the impossibility of the situation, and when I was starting to imagine that my father had actually lured me into some kind of suicide mission, the elevator slowed to a stop. The doors clanged open, and we stepped out into a space that looked suspiciously similar to my room in the castle.

“What is this?” I asked, stumbling around in bewilderment, still a little unsteady from the elevator ride. “What’s going on?”

“This is the new castle,” my dad replied, beaming. “The other one is the old one. We just use it as a decoy.”

“Decoy?”

“Yes. Everything on land is a decoy. We have them up there for security.”

Decoys? What in the world was my dad talking about? “I... I don’t understand.”

My father clapped his hand on my shoulder. “In a few minutes, you will.”

I decided I had to trust my dad as I followed him down the spiral staircase because my mind couldn’t think of any feasible answer to explain the situation. We reached the front doors in the identical castle entrance hall, and with a flourish, my father pushed them open.

The scene I saw before me was unbelievable. Ornate stone buildings lined a wide, cobblestone street that was lit with dozens of large lanterns as it stretched up a hill. Hundreds of people walked in and out of shops and restaurants, talking, laughing, and sampling food that filled the air with delicious aromas.

“This is incredible!” I exclaimed, taking in the sights and sounds.

“This isn’t even the best part,” my dad commented. He led me up the street and as we crested the hill, the road ended and gave way to a sheer cliff that revealed a spectacular view of a massive city below us.

“Welcome to Gulbrania,” my father said, gesturing his hand out with obvious pride.

My eyes couldn’t take it all in. There were clusters of buildings as tall as skyscrapers and huge screens and lights glittering in between them. There were jagged rock formations jutting up throughout the city, making it seem all the more dramatic. There were streets and highways filled with exotic-looking cars and motorcycles. There were even small planes and helicopters flying above the buildings. Farther out there were apartment buildings and houses, with trees and parks and lakes. But I discovered the most enthralling feature when I looked above me. A lighted, transparent material stretched in all directions, and through it I could see all sorts of ocean life swimming and gliding around, from schools of tiny fish to massive whales.

“How is this possible?” I asked. “Where are we?”

“This is possible largely because of the Gulbranak,” my father responded, “and we are on the ocean floor.” He guided me to one of many orb-like elevators clinging to the side of the cliff, and gestured for me to get in. We began to descend into the city, the orb allowing us to view the scenery as we went. “The Gulbranians discovered Gulbranak several decades ago,” my dad explained. “When they realized the potential of the metal, they decided to build a hidden city to protect the Gulbranak from dangerous forces.” Reaching our destination, the orb opened and we stepped out onto a busy street. “Most of the outside world knows nothing about this part of Gulbrania,” he continued, “and we go to great lengths to keep it that way.”

I followed my father down the street, with the two bodyguards walking behind us. I noticed several people staring at us and whispering as we passed, and I felt my cheeks flush as a group of teenage girls pointed at me and giggled. I was used to being singled out and laughed at, but it wasn’t until we had gone a few more blocks that I realized they probably hadn’t been making fun of me.

I was so absorbed in taking in this underwater world that I almost didn’t notice my father turn down a small alleyway. At the end of the alley was a bolted door. He punched in a code on the side, then ordered the bodyguards to stay outside as he pulled me through the door. A short corridor opened up into a circular room encased in that same glowing, transparent material. I could see people scuba diving in the ocean outside of the room, holding tools that looked like really fancy drills.

“Right out there is where the majority of the Gulbranak is mined,” my dad announced. “We employ only the most skilled and trustworthy citizens to perform that work,” he added. “And back here,” he said, gesturing to a door we had passed in the corridor, “is where most of the Gulbranak is stored.” He activated a screen that required a handprint and turned to me. “Go ahead, Frederick.”

I placed my hand on the screen. At first, it just scanned it, but then I felt a sudden prick on my index finger.

“Ouch!” I yelped. “What was that?”

My father chuckled. “Access to the Gulbranak requires the correct fingerprints and DNA found in the blood.” The door slid open. “And as my son and the heir to the Gulbranian throne, you possess both,” he said solemnly.

I stepped forward into a massive room filled with the shiny green metal, stacked in tall, neat rows.

“You and I are the only people with access to this room,” my dad said, stepping up beside me. “Unfortunately, the Jumerum now know that the key to this room is in the DNA of the royal family. Previously, they believed they could just get to the Gulbranak by killing us off, which is why they killed your grandfather and made multiple attempts to kill me.” He turned to face me. “It is therefore imperative that you follow every order given to ensure your safety. Do you understand?”

His intensity was making me nervous. “Yeah, I get it, dad. I’ve been pretty good at self preservation so far, so I think I’ll be okay.”

He gave me a disapproving look. “I hope you’ll take this seriously, Frederick. Trillions of dollars and countless lives depend on the safety of this Gulbranak.”

Chapter Nine

Kayla

“Come in, Miss Morrison.”

I stepped into Mrs. Youngblood’s office, surprised at the barrenness of the walls. As vice principal, I thought she would have a number of degrees and certificates hanging in her office.

“I called you in today for a couple of reasons,” she explained, gesturing for me to sit in the chair across from her. “First, it seems you’ve been rather vocal against bullying.”

I shifted in my chair. “That kind of stuff has been bothering me a lot more than it used to,” I said. “I know I might have gone a little too far, but some of the things the students do to other kids is really terrible.”

Mrs. Youngblood nodded. “You’re right. We have an unusually bad problem with students tormenting one another at this school. Your cause is a good one, but the appropriate action to take in those circumstances is to report the offenses to a teacher or administrator instead of trying to take action yourself.”

“I understand,” I replied, even though I was unsure if reporting those things to teachers would really make any difference.

“The other issue I need to discuss with you,” Mrs. Youngblood continued, “is this incident you reported concerning Wyatt Brooks.”

I swallowed hard. I had been feeling better about that situation, but the formality of discussing it with the vice principal made me a little insecure.

“I have the details that your mother shared with me, and I know this may be difficult for you, but can you tell me what happened that night?”

I took a deep breath and recounted most of my experience with Wyatt at the homecoming dance. I held on to the edge of the desk to keep my hands from shaking. When I finished, Mrs. Youngblood nodded and typed some notes on her computer.

“Were there any witnesses to this event?” She asked. “Was anyone with you?”

“Yes. Frog, er... Frederick Vonnegan came into the room. He was actually the one who got Wyatt off of me.”

Mrs. Youngblood raised her eyebrows. “Have you been in contact with Mr. Vonnegan?”

I shrank a little in my chair. “No, I haven’t.”

Mrs. Youngblood didn’t say anything, but her thoughts were evident in the expression on her face. The only person that had seen the assault had been gone for over a month, and even I could admit that the thought of Frog overpowering Wyatt seemed a little far fetched.

Mrs. Youngblood clicked through a few things on her computer. “Kayla, tell me about your father.”

“He’s dead,” I said quickly. Mrs. Youngblood peered at me over the top of her computer. This was the lie I had been telling about my father ever since he went to prison. This is what all the students at the school believed, because that’s what I had told them. If Mrs. Youngblood knew the truth, she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Your family situation must have caused you considerable stress over the years,” she commented. “I’ve noticed other students in similar circumstances have acted out as a plea for attention.”

She gave me a meaningful look, and I immediately felt sick. Her indirect accusation stung me more than I could have imagined.

“We’ll continue this investigation,” Mrs. Youngblood said, standing, “but before we meet again, I would like you to do some soul searching.”

I could only nod in reply. I stood and exited her office as quickly as I could. I tried to keep the tears from coming as I walked down the hall. She didn’t believe me. Wyatt’s words from the other night began to haunt me and I wondered if anyone would believe me. I felt the feelings of fear and insecurity seep back into my mind, and at that moment I desperately wished that Frog was still there.

Chapter Ten

Frog

I groaned as I looked at the rack of clothing I still had to try on. I’d been in Mr. Norworth’s shop for over two hours, and my back was starting to hurt from always having to stand up straight. Mr. Norworth was supposedly the best tailor in Gulbrania. I didn’t know if that was true, but I did know that he was painstakingly thorough. Every inch of my body had been meticulously measured to ensure the right alterations. My mother had watched all this with mild amusement when she wasn’t answering important phone calls from department heads.

“Are all these clothes really necessary?” I mumbled to her while Mr. Norworth was in the back of the shop getting a more accurate measuring device.

“Frederick, you’re the prince of this country,” she replied with a sigh. “As such, you’re required to participate in various activities and events, and these require a more extensive wardrobe than a box full of T-shirts and jeans.”

I nodded reluctantly. It was a fair explanation, but I still didn’t like it. I had never worn so many different kinds of clothes in my life. There had been multiple suits and tuxedos, sport coats, slacks, dress shirts, and ties, then there had been casual outfits, semi-casual outfits, and outfits made out of materials from specific countries that I would have to wear if I ever met with the leaders of those countries. I had even been fitted for several new sets of pajamas. I seriously doubted that anyone cared what I was wearing in the middle of the night. If nothing else, this experience was forcing me to get used to my reflection since I had been forced to stare at it for so long in the multiple mirrors in front of me.

“Here we are!” Mr. Norworth announced, waving his device as he walked up to me and ran it across the length of my shoulders. He looked at the small display and nodded. “Yes, yes, I was right. But I wanted to be sure!” He took a few more measurements and stuck some pins into the cloth. “Splendid! Take this riding suit off and let’s get on to the next one!”

I complied, rubbing my temples before taking the next suit off the rack. The short man’s never-ending enthusiasm was starting to grate on my nerves. I quickly pulled on a dark blue suit made of thick, rough fabric, with a high neck and oblong buttons that ran diagonally down my torso. My mother rose from her seat.

“Be careful with that one, Frederick,” she warned. “That’s the royal suit you’ll be wearing for your presentation gala.”

I gave her a weak smile. The gala was only a week away, and the thought of it still made me a little nauseous.

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Norworth interjected as he inspected the material. “I see that the Gulbranak is woven in.”

I looked down and noticed several shiny green strands running throughout the suit. Mr. Norworth walked around me, pulling at the suit and taking measurements.

“Once again, take in at the waist, let out in the shoulders,” he murmured.

At that moment I heard a chorus of squeals from outside the shop, and the next second, a dozen teenage girls had rushed through the door.

“It’s him! It’s really him!” One exclaimed.

“Frederick! Can I get your autograph!” Another called out.

“Prince Vonnegan! Will you please dance with me at the gala? My name’s Cheryl.”

“No! Dance with me! I’ll make it worth your while.”

They all crowded around me, asking for requests and photos and staring at me, but thankfully, they didn’t touch me. The whole situation was becoming a bit nightmarish, and I didn’t know what to do. Just then, I heard my mother give a loud whistle, and two bodyguards I hadn’t known where there appeared from the back of the shop.

“I’m sorry ladies,” my mother said authoritatively, “but the prince needs his privacy.”

The bodyguards stood between me and the throng of girls, and getting the message, they grudgingly left the shop, but not before a few of them took a hasty picture of me and ran off.

My mother exhaled and sat down again, while the two bodyguards resumed their positions at the back of the shop.

“What was that all about?” I asked, still a bit overwhelmed from the episode.

“You’re the prince! You’re famous!” Mr. Norworth said, waggling his eyebrows excitedly.

“And quite frankly, son, you’re too attractive for your own good,” my mother added with a hint of teasing in her tone.

I shook my head in bewilderment. My life was a lot different than it used to be.

*****

I walked into the training room expecting to see Alm, but when I saw Tabitha Dahl in the far corner, I almost walked right back out again.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Tabitha called out, motioning me over.

I blew out a long breath and forced myself to walk toward her. It wasn’t that I disliked Tabitha, I actually found her to be one of the more honest and level headed Gulbranians that I had encountered, but I just wasn’t in the mood for more etiquette lessons. As I got closer, I saw that she had set up a little table, and that a girl was sitting at it.

“Frederick, this is my niece, Kirsten,” Tabitha announced as the girl stood. “I’ve brought her here so you could practice your courting etiquette with a real person, and also so she’ll stop bothering me about you.”

Now I really wished that I could run out of the room. Pretending to date some girl while Tabitha breathed down my neck about every little thing I was supposed to do sounded miserable. The girl was pretty, very pretty, in fact, with long blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, but there was something in those eyes that was a bit frightening, as if she would attack me if she got the chance.

“Hello, Prince Vonnegan,” she said in an overly sweet voice, “it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

I glanced over at Tabitha, who gave me an encouraging nod. I swallowed and extended my hand. “It’s lovely to meet you as well, Kirsten.”

She eagerly grasped my hand, then smiled and visibly shuddered before she let go.

“Wonderful,” Tabitha said. “Now, let’s discuss some of the rules of early courtship.” She crossed to the other side of the table and picked up a large stack of what appeared to be flashcards. “First,” she began, holding up one of the cards, “Look your date in the eye. Don’t let your eyes wander, especially to other parts of your date’s body,” she said with a stern look in my direction. “This shows that you respect your date, and that you are present.”

“Next,” she continued, holding up another card, “always be polite, not only to your date, but to other people you might encounter during your time together. This ensures that each of you will feel comfortable.” She held up the next card. “Respect your date’s personal space. You might hold hands if you feel the action is appropriate, but do not, under any condition, allow your hands to take liberties elsewhere.”

I turned bright red at this admonition, but I noticed Kirsten’s eyes light up.

“Lastly, ask your date pertinent questions. If you spend the entire time talking about yourself, you’ll appear vain and there will be little room for connection.” Tabitha gathered up the flash cards and gestured to the two chairs at the table. “Alright, you two, take a seat.”

Kirsten and I sat down across from each other, and I did my best not to cringe under her intense gaze.

“Remember the rules I just explained, and good luck,” Tabitha concluded, turning to leave.

“Wait, what?” I exclaimed, jumping out of my chair.

“The best way for you to learn, Mr. Vonnegan, is to practice. It would be no good to have me standing there, that wouldn’t be natural.” I inclined my head. She had a point there. “Kirsten will report on how you do. Good luck, Mr. Vonnegan.” She smiled and walked out of the room.

I slowly turned back to Kirsten, who was now looking more eager than ever. I really didn’t want to go through with it, but I took a deep breath and sat back down. I had had my face shoved in countless toilets and been locked in some of the worst places imaginable. Surely I could make conversation with this girl for a few minutes.

I looked her in the eye and smiled. “So, Kirsten, how is your day going?”

“It’s been a dream come true,” she said breathlessly.

I shifted in my seat. “Okay, um, have you lived in Gulbrania your whole life?”

“Yes. Except for a year when I went to study in Greenland.”

“Cool, what did you study?”

“Narwals.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t, so I looked around for something else to talk about. “I, uh, like your sweater.”

“Thank you,” she replied, preening. “I made it.”

“Wow,” I said, actually impressed, “how long did that take?”

She shrugged. “A couple days. I’ve been knitting and sewing for years, so it was pretty easy.” Then she gave me a sly smile. “I can take it off, if you want. You know, so you can get a better look,” she added with a deliberate wink.

I leaned away from her as far as I could without falling out of my chair. “No, no thank you, that won’t be necessary.”

“Well,” Kirsten said, scooting her chair closer to me, “Let me know if you change your mind.”

It seemed to me that Kirsten was the one who needed etiquette lessons, but I doubted it would go over very well if I mentioned that to Ms. Dahl. She continued to ogle me with that somewhat frightening look in her eyes, and all I could think about was how much I missed Kayla.

Chapter Eleven

Kayla

“I’ve given you all several tools to help identify the minerals, “Mrs. Meekum said, pacing in front of the chalkboard. “If you’ve been paying attention for the past week, you should have no problem filling out the worksheet. You have until the end of class.”

I stared at the assortment of minerals in front of me. I hadn’t been paying attention, but I knew what most of them were. Next to me, Milo Kowalski was biting into a piece of pyrite.

“I guess they don’t call it fool’s gold for nothing,” I said with a small smile.

Milo shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trying.” He set down the pyrite and started scratching a nail into a block of calcite.

I’d been interacting a lot with Milo lately. I’d joined him at his table in chemistry lab and I ate lunch with him most days. I guess you could say we were becoming friends, which was nice, because I’d lost all of mine. My social standing had fallen pretty quickly with the way I had been acting and also because of some stupid rumors Wyatt was spreading about me, something about how I had been raised by nuns. It probably didn’t help that I was hanging out with Milo, but I didn’t care. For the most part, I had stopped being concerned about what everybody else thought of me.

“So, has Frog texted you yet?” Milo asked, rubbing some graphite on a piece of paper.

“No,” I grumbled, a little irked that Milo kept asking me this question. “And honestly, I don’t think he’s ever going to.”

Milo shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense! Frog was crazy about you.”

I looked over at Milo. “Really?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yeah. Couldn’t you tell?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t want to assume...” I trailed off. In fact, I had suspected that he liked me, but lately I had rationalized that he was just being nice.

“Well, you should have assumed,” Milo said. “Frog would have done anything for you.”

I smiled, oddly comforted by Milo’s assertions. So Frog had cared about me. “Maybe he doesn’t feel that way anymore,” I said sullenly, flicking a broken piece of mica off of the table.

Milo snorted. “I doubt it. Maybe you did something to scare him off.”

I shrank in my chair a little bit. Had I scared him off? I thought. Was my kiss so bad that he never wanted to talk to me again?

Milo glanced at me with curiosity. “Did something happen with you two?”

“I, um, kissed him,” I muttered.

“What?” Milo exclaimed loudly, drawing several looks from our classmates.

“Shhh!” I hissed. “It wasn’t really a big deal,” I said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “It was just a small peck on the lips, it wasn’t like I threw him against the wall or anything.” I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. It had, in fact, been a pretty big deal. Even though the kiss had been quick, I could still remember the rush of pleasant emotions I had felt.

“Well, no wonder he’s not talking to you,” Milo said, staring at me. “You probably blew his mind! He probably doesn’t know what to say to you!”

I inclined my head. That did make a little sense. And I had left him a plethora of texts and voice messages. Maybe I had overwhelmed him.

“I’m telling you, Kayla, you need to just text him,” Milo urged. “Just a simple “hello,” or something. Break the ice. Ease him into it. Guys like us aren’t used to getting any action, so when it happens, it kind of overloads our systems.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I will.”

*****

I pressed through the crowd of students streaming out of the front doors. School had just ended and everyone was eager to get to their cars or on the buses to get out of the cold. I had left my volleyball uniform in my truck, and I just needed to get it before practice started. I wove my way around a group of football players and nearly ran into Wyatt and Miranda, who were making out at the top of the steps. Just seeing their mouths interlocked and Wyatt’s hands running all over my former friend made me want to throw up. I quickly turned away and saw something that filled me with an entirely different kind of nausea.

At the bottom of the steps stood a tall man with dark hair and a self-assured smile. Ten years had only given him some gray hairs and a few wrinkles around his golden brown eyes. Eyes that were the same color as mine.

“Dad?” I gasped, feeling all the air go out of me, as if someone had just punched me in the stomach. His saw me then. His sickening smile deepened and he walked confidently up to me.

“Kayla! I can’t believe it! Look at you! You’re all grown up!” He put his arms out as if he was going to hug me, but I stepped back.

“Stay away from me.” I said evenly.

My dad’s face only fell for a second. “Come on, pumpkin, is that the way to greet your father after all this time?”

“Kayla, is this your dad?”

I turned around and found Miranda staring at me. “I thought he was dead!” She exclaimed.

My dad gave Miranda an odd look. “Dead, in prison, it’s all about the same,” he said with a shrug.

“Prison?” Miranda screeched.

“You stay out of this,” I warned.

“Are you kidding?” Miranda replied, a sneer forming on her lips. “You’ve been lying all this time!”

I turned away. I didn’t care to deal with Miranda at that moment. As I focused back on my dad, I noticed that a crowd of students had gathered around us.

“Kayla,” my dad said, stepping closer, “I know I let you down, but I’ve spent the past ten years thinking about you and missing you.”

“Maybe you should have spent that time thinking about the horrible choices you made,” I responded fiercely.

My father was undeterred. “Now that I’ve been released, we can start over. I can make up for all the time I was gone.”

He started to put his hand on my shoulder, but I pushed it away. “No! Leave me alone!” I yelled. “You ruined my life and I won’t let you do it again!”

I pushed past him and ran to my truck. I didn’t look back as I started it up and drove out of the parking lot. Fifteen minutes later I pulled in to the diner and ran inside. I found my mother at the front counter.

“Mom,” I said, trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice, “I just saw dad.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Sir, you’ll have to excuse me,” she said to the gentleman she had been helping. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me around to the other side of the counter, then led me into a small storage closet and shut the door behind us.

“Where did you see him?” She asked, frantically brushing my hair out of my face with her hands.

“He was at my school, just outside the entrance.”

“Did he escape?”

“No, he’s been released. At least, that’s what he said.”

My mother blew out a breath. “He spoke to you?”

“Yeah, he just wanted to reconnect, start over.”

My mom rubbed her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Kayla. I should have realized he was going to get out soon. I was just hoping it wouldn’t be until after you had gone to college.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to get rid of the chills. “Can’t we do something to make him stay away?” I asked. “Get a restraining order or something?”

“I really don’t know if we have the grounds to do that right now, but I’ll find out.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head vigorously, as if trying to expel the unpleasant feelings. “I have to get back to work, why don’t you go home, honey?”

“No!” I nearly shouted. “I don’t want to be there alone! I’ll stay here and help out until closing.”

My mom nodded and opened the door to the storage closet. She headed to the front while I went back to the kitchen to get started on the dishes. As I stacked the plates on the racks, I started to wonder why I had freaked out so much about seeing my dad. He hadn’t seemed threatening or even imposing when I talked to him outside the school. Perhaps he had changed and really did want to start over with his daughter. Maybe I had been angry and disappointed with him for so long that I just expected him to be an awful person. I shook my head. He had fooled me before, I wasn’t going to give him my trust until I was certain he was worthy of it.

Later that night, after I had closed down the diner with my mother and followed her home, I sat in my bed and thought about the bizarre and unfortunate events of the last several weeks. More and more, I just wanted to talk to Frog, even though I knew that wouldn’t solve all my problems. I considered what Milo had said earlier that day, how maybe I had somehow inundated Frog with my actions and messages. I needed to be simple.

I grabbed my phone and quickly texted Frog before I could change my mind.

Hi. How are you?

Chapter Twelve

Frog

I was groggy when I heard a text message come through on my phone, but when I saw who it was from, I was suddenly wide awake.

Hi. How are you?

It was so simple, and yet, it seemed so loaded. For one, I really didn’t know how to answer that question. In general, I was kind of a mess, but at that very moment, I was elated. Then there was the fact that the text had come at six in the morning, which meant that it was midnight in Indiana. I didn’t know many people who sent casual texts out at that hour, there had to be something deeper beneath it.

I massaged my neck. I was analyzing this way too much. But one thing was certain: Kayla had not forgotten about me. My fingers itched as I wrote a reply.

I’m okay. I’m really glad you texted me.

I cringed. That sounded really lame and lackluster, but her response came almost immediately.

Frog, it is so good to hear from you! Did you lose my number?

I stared at the words. It would be so easy to say that I had, but I felt that I should be as honest as I could.

No. It’s just that my life has been a little bit crazy lately. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your messages, I didn’t really know what to say.

That’s okay. What’s been crazy?

I exhaled. How could I explain this to her without revealing everything? Well, we moved to Gulbrania, and things are really different over here. Oh, and my dad is back in my life. That’s kind of been a huge adjustment.

Wow. That’s a weird coincidence. My dad showed up at school today to see me.

I raised my eyebrows. Is he out of prison?

Yes, unfortunately.

All of the sudden I felt incredibly selfish. Here I had been wallowing in all of my issues and keeping Kayla at a distance when she had been going through some really difficult things as well.

I’m so sorry. That must have been mortifying.

Yep. That would be the perfect word to describe it.

What are you going to do?

Try to avoid him as long as possible. You know how it is, having a father who’s a jerk.

Now I felt even worse. My dad hadn’t left us because he was a jerk. He had left us to protect us. Actually, I wrote, after talking with my dad, I kind of understood why he did what he did.

Really? So you’ve forgiven him?

Yeah, for the most part.

Several minutes passed before Kayla responded. That’s great. Maybe I should follow your example.

I cringed. I really didn’t know what kind of guy Mr. Morrison was, or if prison had changed him. I didn’t want Kayla to get hurt again, but maybe it would be beneficial if she gave him a chance.

You should talk to him. But be careful.

Oh, don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.

Of course.

I never do rash things, like kiss boys out of the blue.

Just ones out of the green.

Ha! Exactly.

I swallowed hard. Had we just joked about her kissing me? And survived it? It seemed so, but I couldn’t be sure. Texting wasn’t ideal for things like this, but I was probably still too nervous to talk to her on the phone.

I miss you. She wrote.

I miss you too.

I smiled. It was good to talk to Kayla. She filled a void I hadn’t known was there. I was about to suggest that she come visit Gulbrania when my mother burst into my room.

“Frederick, we’ve got to move you underground, NOW.”

My head was still full of Kayla, so it took me a few seconds to process what my mother was saying. “What do you mean?”

She began opening all my drawers and throwing things out of them. “One of our operatives discovered that the Jumerum are planning to kidnap you. They are at our borders as we speak, and your father and his team are trying to stop them. In the meantime, we need to hide you.”

I felt a rush of unexpected indignation. “Hide? You want me to just hide?”

“Yes,” my mother replied, ignoring my discontent. “Now hurry and pack up all your essentials. Thankfully all of your new clothing is already down there.”

I got out of my bed and folded my arms across my chest. I may not have been the bravest or most capable teenager in the world, but I knew that I didn’t want to run away and be useless while my dad fought all of my battles for me.

“Mom, I’ve spent all of this time training and preparing for something like this,” I said, willing my mother to look me in the eye as she continued to rush around my room. “I should be out there, helping dad, fighting with him. Why don’t you guys trust me enough to let me do anything?”

My mom took a deep breath and crossed to me. “Frederick,” she said, “this has very little to do with trust. We have faith in you, but when there is any threat, it is imperative that you and your father stay separated. You two are the only ones with access to the Gulbranak, and if both of you were taken or killed...” she shuddered and took another breath,” then our country, and perhaps the world, would be in a very dire situation. This is why you’ve spent so little time with your father. Right now, allowing the two of you to be together puts us all at great risk.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “There are times to fight, and there are times to flee. If you want to help your father, if you want to help your country, now is the time to flee.”

The weight of her words pressed in on me, and I could see that my desire to join in the fight was selfish.

“Okay, let’s get down there.”

My mother stepped back, looking relieved.

I glanced around my room and realized that the only thing I really needed was the phone I still had in my hand. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

My mom frowned. “You’re still wearing your pajamas.”

I threw up my hands. “I thought this was an urgent situation. Now you’re concerned about me looking fashionable while I flee for my life?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just change your pants and put on a coat,” she said. “We do need to hurry, but I’m willing to wait a few minutes to ensure that the Prince of Gulbrania is not running through the streets in pants with dragons on them.”

I sighed. There were just some things about royalty I was never going to understand.

Chapter Thirteen

Kayla

As soon as I walked into the school, I knew something was wrong. People were either staring at me, trying not to stare at me, or pointing at me and chuckling. At first I wondered if I had something on my face, or if I had forgotten something important, like my pants. I hadn’t slept very much the night before because I was so excited about reconnecting with Frog, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had forgotten something. But then I saw the posters. There were dozens of them lining the hallways, taped to lockers and doorways and displays. There was some variation on the posters, but they were all demeaning, and they all featured me.

I walked slowly down the hallway as I looked at them, while the stares and giggles of the other students intensified. Some showed a picture of me wearing a tiara at homecoming and read: “Prison Princess.” Others displayed an unflattering picture of me I recognized from one of my social media accounts, and “Liar” was written in bold letters across my forehead. The rest showed me photoshopped in a nun costume, and they said: “You Can Look, But Please Don’t Touch.”

I raised my eyebrows as I took in all of these posters, not sure whether to laugh or cry. They were absolutely ridiculous, and yet, they hurt. Knowing that I was being singled out and made fun of made me feel exposed and small.

“Here comes the prison princess!” Somebody shouted as I turned the corner. People all around me erupted into laughter, and I just kept my head down and continued walking. I wasn’t really concentrating on where I was going, and I nearly ran into Wyatt and Miranda, who were standing in the middle of the hall.

“Hi Kayla,” Miranda said with a sneer, standing in front of me so I couldn’t pass.

“What do you want, Miranda?” I said warily.

“I just wanted to know what you thought of the new decorations,” she said cruelly.

“They could use a little more color and authenticity,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at her. “Did you guys do this?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Wyatt said, shrugging. “But now at least everyone knows what kind of person you really are.” He stepped closer to me. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you start throwing out false accusations,” he whispered in my ear. “The lies you told about your dad are not going to help your case.” He stepped back and put his arm around Miranda, looking smug.

“You are so pathetic, Kayla,” Miranda spat. “Don’t expect us to believe any more of your lies.”

They turned and walked down the hall, leaving me feeling more vulnerable than I had in a long time.

*****

I sat down at the table with all the other junior class officers and tried to avoid their eyes. Student Government was usually one of my favorite classes of the day, but lately it had been just another period to get through. James Huckston stood up at the front of the room while everyone got settled.

“Okay guys,” James said loudly, trying to get everyone’s attention. “First, thanks to everyone who helped remove the, ah... posters.”

There were a few furtive glances my way, but luckily everyone in there was tactful enough not to say anything.

“Secondly,” James continued, “we’ve got elections for next year coming up. If you’re intending to run for an office, you need to get in your application before next Friday.”

Sadie Garrett, my junior class vice president, leaned closer to me. “Are you still planning on running for student body president?” She asked.

I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, almost as if she was hoping I would say that I wasn’t. We had planned on running together as student body president and vice president for months, but now, with everything that had happened and my recent fall from social grace, I wasn’t so sure. Perhaps Sadie was wanting to find someone else to run with, or maybe she wanted to run for president herself.

“I’ll let you know by the end of the week,” I said.

She nodded, but she didn’t look very satisfied.

After school that day, I decided to skip volleyball practice and just go home. I wanted time to process the day’s events before I went to the diner, and I wanted to talk to Frog. It was odd that even though I had had a relatively horrible day, knowing that I was back in communication with Frog had made it bearable.

I collapsed on the couch and pulled out my phone, chewing on my lip for a moment while I tried to figure out what to say.

Hey Frog, can I ask you a question?

Of course. But I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to answer it.

How did you deal with all that bullying at school? How were you able to handle it?

A few minutes passed, and I started to wonder if I had asked the wrong thing.

Then: I had a lot of distractions. I would go home and lift weights, or practice karate, or play my guitar so I wouldn’t have to think about it. Sometimes I would laugh it off with Milo. But I also think that deep down, I knew who I was, and I knew I was better than what everyone else thought of me.

I read through his text several times. I didn’t expect him to give such a thought provoking answer.

Why do you ask? He added.

I chewed on my lip again, wondering how much I should disclose.

I reported what happened with Wyatt at the homecoming dance. Unfortunately, nobody seems to believe me, but Wyatt wasn’t too happy about it.

Has he been bothering you?

Yeah, kind of. He put up a bunch of ridiculous posters at school today. They were stupid, but it was still embarrassing. But I did hose him down with the power sprayer when he came to talk to me at the diner.

Really? I would have given my left arm to see that.

Yeah, the look on his face was priceless.

A minute or two passed before Frog responded again.

Kayla, you are the most incredible person I know. It’s not worth it to let other people decide who you are or take away your light.

I was floored by his words. Was this the same guy who used to mop the hallways of our school? His depth and sincerity was amazing and comforting.

Thanks Frog, that means a lot.

I set my phone down and leaned back on the couch. The things I had been going through were difficult, but I didn’t have to let them obliterate my strengths. Regardless of who did or did not believe me, I needed to believe in myself. It didn’t matter if my dad had been in prison, I wasn’t anything like him, and I needed to get myself together.

I stood up and put my shoes back on, resolving to go back to school and catch the last half of volleyball practice. Wallowing wasn’t doing me any good. I needed distractions. I needed purpose.

Chapter Fourteen

Frog

“Hey Freddy! Who are you texting?”

I looked up to see Zane coming through the door with his Gulbranak demonstration cart.

“Nobody,” I responded, slipping my phone into my pocket.

“It’s Kayla Morrison, isn’t it?”

My jaw dropped. “What? How did you...”

Zane put his hands up. “Freddy, I’ve had to watch you for years. I picked up on a few things, okay?”

“That is so...”

“She seems like a nice girl,” Zane interrupted, “but her dad...”

“Yeah, I know,” I cut in. “She’s nothing like him.”

Zane raised his eyebrows. “I hope not.” He started unloading equipment from his cart and setting it up on a sturdy table in the middle of the new training room.

I had moved into the new castle on the ocean floor, and now all my training and correspondence took place there. It was nearly identical to the old castle on land, except that there were some upgrades, like better lighting and flushing toilets. I was able to go out into the city more often, but only when I was accompanied by a dozen or so guards. Regardless, I loved seeing it, exploring it, and finding out what Gulbrania was really like. The past few days had been a lot more enjoyable than the rest of my stay in Gulbrania. Not only was I able to see more of the country, I had also been texting Kayla quite a bit, and that had really improved my mood, even though I was a little worried about some of the things she had been going through. I had surprised myself by how I responded to her concerns about bullying. I’d never really considered what had gotten me through all those difficult times, but maybe, even back then, I had some sense of self purpose. Maybe I did have an inkling of who I was supposed to be.

“Okay, are you ready for this?” Zane asked excitedly, handing me some goggles and thick gloves. “Put those on, stand back, and watch me carefully, because then it will be your turn.”

I obeyed, and then observed Zane as he took a large chunk of Gulbranak and set it on a tray over a large hot plate. He poured a chemical mixture over the metal, then grabbed what appeared to be a blow torch and ignited it. I watched him as he circled around the Gulbranak with the directed flame, adding more chemicals and melting the substance down. As fascinating as it was, I couldn’t keep my thoughts from wandering back to Kayla. It must have taken a lot of courage to report the incident with Wyatt, and I was frustrated that nobody seemed to believe her. I supposed I could call up the school and tell them I had witnessed it, but I hadn’t left a very good impression on the administration there and I wondered if they would take me seriously.

“Hey! Freddy! Did you hear what I just said?”

Zane’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw that the Gulbranak was now liquified in the tray. “Uh, no, sorry,” I replied. “Could you tell me again?”

To my surprise, Zane scowled, turned off his blow torch and set it down, then folded his arms across his chest. “Frederick, this is extremely important. We are smelting Gulbranak, which is a dangerous and valuable process, and I need your full attention.”

I raised my eyebrows. I was being scolded by a twelve year old. “Look, I’m sorry, I just-”

“Sit down,” Zane interjected, gesturing to a nearby chair. “The only way to get you to concentrate is to clear your mind. So, tell me what’s going on. Go ahead, get it off your chest.”

I balked. “Are you serious?”

Zane didn’t say anything. He just looked at me expectantly.

I threw up my hands and sat down. The last thing I wanted to do was have some kind of therapy session with this kid, but Zane seemed determined.

“Okay,” I began. “I’ve, um, been talking with Kayla, and... she’s been having some issues.” I said vaguely.

“What kinds of issues?” Zane prodded.

I frowned. I didn’t really think it would be appropriate to reveal all the details of Kayla’s situation. “Well, she was dating this guy at school, and he sort of... took advantage of her, and now that she’s reported it, nobody believes her.”

Zane’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I know what you’re talking about! It was that jerk at the homecoming dance. The one that you flipped. I have to say, Freddy, that was the most heroic thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

I stared at Zane. “How in the world could you know that?” I asked incredulously.

Zane smiled and walked to his cart. He pulled something out of one of the drawers and held it up. “Does this look familiar?”

I squinted at the tiny object between his fingers. It looked like a fly with an abnormally large head. “No,” I replied.

“Good, that means it’s effective.” Zane walked back to me, showing me the device. “This is a micro camera, and it’s been following you for most of your life.”

“What?” I exclaimed, jumping out of my chair.

“Calm down,” Zane said, waving his hand dismissively. “We never recorded anything too sensitive, but this was a necessary precaution. A lot depends on your safety, and we needed eyes on you whenever you traveled outside of our secure zones.”

“Secure zones?”

“Yeah, like your home, your car, your regular classrooms, Milo’s house...”

I shook my head. “So you’ve been watching everything I do all these years?”

“Not just me,” Zane said casually. “There’s an entire team dedicated to your security. And we didn’t watch everything you did, that would have been incredibly boring.”

I shuddered. I felt so violated. So exposed.

“It’s okay, Freddie, it’s not a big deal. Nobody was watching you for entertainment, although there were times when it was kind of entertaining. But mostly it was all professional. We were just looking for potential risks and threats.”

I took a deep breath. Parts of what Zane was saying made some sense, but knowing that I’d never been truly alone was exceptionally unnerving.

“You were just trying to keep me safe?” I said, more as a statement than a question.

“That’s right. And let me tell you, I had to save your life a few more times than I would have liked.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, like that time you almost got crushed at the football game.”

I blinked. I remembered the pillar almost falling on me, but I thought it was just adrenaline that had helped me move so swiftly out of harm’s way.

“What did you... how did you...?”

“I have a line of incredibly powerful remote control cars,” Zane explained. “I had one of them zip in there and move you out of the way.”

I didn’t know how a little car had the capability to do that, but I wasn’t in the mood to ask. I didn’t think my brain could handle any more new information.

“The good news,” Zane said happily, “is that if your friend needs proof that that guy attacked her, we have it.”

It took me a minute to figure out what Zane was talking about. The horror of discovering that I’d been under constant surveillance had made me forget that this whole conversation had started with Kayla.

“Yeah, I guess that would be helpful,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure. If I sent Kayla video footage of that night, I’d have to explain how I got it, which meant I’d probably have to explain everything.

“Okay, so are you ready to smelt some metal?” Zane asked, picking up his blow torch again.

I nodded, but I doubted I would be able to focus. In addition to my thoughts being full of Kayla, I now had to wrap my mind around the fact that my life had never been my own, and never would be.

*****

“You really are getting much better.”

I squinted up at Alm from the floor. He had just knocked me off my feet for about the seventh time, and I was starting to wonder if I should just stay down there. “You think so?” I asked skeptically as I sat up and rubbed my shoulder.

“Definitely. Your form has improved and your agility is top notch. It’s just your execution that needs work.”

“No kidding,” I grumbled as I got to my feet.

“I think we’ll end for today,” Alm said, eyeing me. “You look like you should take a rest.”

“Who? Me?” I laughed. “No, I was totally looking forward to getting knocked out ten more times.”

Alm frowned. “Sarcasm is not becoming of a prince.”

I sighed. “You’re starting to sound like Ms. Dahl.”

He smiled, which was a rare occurrence. “That’s because I’ve been spending more time with her.” He turned and left the training room without another word.

I chuckled, then grabbed my side because laughing hurt from the beating I’d gotten from Alm. I gathered my things and started to head back to my room, but as I was crossing the front entrance, I heard a knock on the door. I stared at the huge wooden slabs, wondering if I had heard correctly. I’d never heard anyone knock on the castle doors before. I approached them hesitantly, then turned the huge knob and peeked outside.

“Oh good, it’s you!”

Kirsten Dahl was standing outside, wearing a bright pink coat and looking expectant.

I forced myself not to make a face that reflected the way I felt. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “The real question is: can I help you?” She smiled flirtatiously and winked.

I didn’t respond, so she continued.

“My aunt wanted me to deliver this to you,” she said, pulling a large book out of her coat and handing it to me. I read the cover. The Compete Guide to Becoming a Gentleman.

“Wow, thank you,” I said. “It looks like a fascinating read.”

Kirsten stood there gazing at me for a few seconds, and I was tempted to just shut the door.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in? That would be the polite thing to do.”

I swallowed hard. I most definitely did not want to let her in, but if I didn’t she’d probably report my lack of manners to Tabitha.

“Of course,” I replied with a forced smile, opening the door wider so she could pass.

Kirsten took in the expansive entry way, her eyes lingering on the elaborate chandelier hanging above us. “It must be nice to be so rich,” she said dreamily.

I raised my eyebrows. “It’s about the same as being poor, but the clothes are fancier.”

She laughed, a high-pitched giggle that I was fairly certain she had practiced. I led her into a sitting room that was right off the entry way. She sat down on a love seat and I chose a chair across the room.

“Don’t you want to sit a bit closer?” She asked, patting the seat next to her.

“Ah, no, I just got done with training and I’m all sweaty.”

Instead of being put off like I’d hoped, she smiled and let her eyes rove over me.

“So, you studied narwals?” I asked before things got too uncomfortable for me.

“Yes, I did.”

“And, what did you learn about them?”

Kirsten pouted. “I learned that they’re a lot uglier in real life.”

I took a deep breath. This girl was something else. And at that moment I really wished that she was doing something else.

“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” I said, wondering why I was always the one asking questions.

“Oh, I don’t need to,” she replied, “I already know everything about you.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“Of course,” she said with a little laugh. “The news has covered your whole life story.”

I straightened in my chair, a little disturbed at this new development. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” she replied with a glint in her eyes. “They’ve covered all your history, your talents, your preferences, and your downfalls.”

I started to feel a little sick, wondering what everyone in Gulbrania would think about my pitiable life in Indiana. “They covered all that, huh?”

“Yes, it’s very interesting,” Kirsten said in a suggestive voice. “This one is my favorite,” she added, pulling out her phone and walking over to me. “I have it bookmarked.”

I tentatively took her phone as she offered it to me, not terribly excited to read what she thought was so interesting. But as I skimmed through the first few paragraphs, I realized that I had been worried about all the wrong things. The article from the Gulbrania Herald described how I had been sent to Indiana to get a “real world education,” but while I was there I had broken so many hearts with my stunning good looks and reckless charm that I had to be recalled to Gulbrania to receive rigorous etiquette lessons. Apparently the press hadn’t been satisfied with my lack of cooperation the other day and had decided to make up their own stories.

I handed the phone back to Kirsten, who was too close and peering at me with that frightening eagerness. “Kirsten, you should know that-”

“Don’t worry, I like bad boys,” she said in a low voice. “I can handle having my heart broken.”

I was very nearly squirming out of my seat when my mother stepped into the room.

“Frederick! There you are! Oh, you have company?”

I stood up and took a step away from Kirsten, extremely grateful for the interruption. “Um, yes. Mom, this is Kirsten Dahl, Tabitha’s niece.”

My mom smiled. “Oh, of course! How are you, dear?”

“I’m wonderful, thank you, your highness,” she replied politely.

“Well, Kirsten,” I said, crossing the room to the door, “thank you so much for coming by and delivering the book.”

“Oh, she doesn’t have to leave,” my mother interjected.

“Yes, she does!” I said, perhaps a little too emphatically. My mother stared at me, and I turned to Kirsten. “I mean, it’d be great if you could stay, but I know my mother has urgent matters to discuss with me.”

“I do?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “About the presentation gala! Which I’m totally excited about, by the way.”

My mom gave me a stern look, but then she turned to Kirsten. “I’m afraid he’s right, dear, I do have some things to discuss with him, but I’m sure we’ll see you again soon.”

Kirsten smiled and nodded, then gave me one more longing gaze before leaving the room.

My mother raised an eyebrow at me. “I hope you have a good reason for being so rude.”

I threw up my hands. “I’m sorry, mom, but I have absolutely nothing in common with that girl. And she’s a little bit scary.”

To my surprise, my mother laughed. “She is somewhat vapid, I’ll give you that. But son, you really need to work on being tactful, even if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Believe me,” I grumbled, “I tried.”

My mother waved her hand. “Anyway, I did, in fact, need to talk to you about the gala. You’re going to need to put together a performance.”

“A what?”

“Just a little performance to showcase your talent. You could play your guitar or something.”

I frowned. “That sounds silly.”

“Nonsense. It’s just to help people see who you are and get to know you.”

Her words reminded me of the news article I had just read and my mouth went dry. “I don’t think people want to get to know me,” I said woefully. “They all think I’m some douche-bag ladies man.”

My mother suppressed a smile. “I assume you’re talking about the news stories. Don’t worry, Frederick, nobody believes that stuff anyway.”

“Some of them believe it,” I mumbled. As much as I didn’t want to be painted as some heartless jerk, what bothered me even more was the fact that nobody really knew me. They didn’t know who I had been and what I had been through. They all just assumed that I was some spoiled, good-looking prince.

“The other urgent matter,” she continued, “is your date to the gala. Have you asked anyone yet.”

I groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, Frederick, it’s tradition.”

“Well, maybe we should try being a little more progressive.”

My mother sighed. “Honey, it’s really not that difficult. Why don’t you ask Kirsten? I’m sure she’d be willing to accompany you,” she teased.

I glared at her, and she put up her hands defensively.

“It was just a suggestion,” she said lightly. “But you need to figure that out, as well as your performance. The presentation gala is less than a week away.”

I nodded in defeat, realizing there was no arguing with her on this. She walked up to me and gave me a hug. “I love you, son. I know this is hard for you, but you were born to do this.”

I backed away. “To do what? Play guitar and ask girls on dates?”

“No. To lead this country.”

Her words felt like a ten ton weight on my shoulders. Of course I knew that being a prince meant that one day I would take charge of Gulbrania, but no one had ever said it out loud. Now it felt real. I shivered. Hopefully that day would be many years in the future.

Chapter Fifteen

Kayla

“Hey honey, could you take these burgers over to table six?”

I grabbed the tray from my mom and dutifully served the customers, then ran back to the grill to help make more food. It had been really busy at the diner that afternoon, and I hadn’t been able to talk to my mom, even though I could tell something was wrong with her. Her smile seemed forced and she kept staring out the windows. Finally, when all the customers were momentarily take care of, I went back and found her in the kitchen.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I asked.

She took one look at me and broke into tears. “I don’t know, Kayla. Everything is a mess since your father got out of prison.”

I stiffened. “Did you see him?”

“Yes, he came to the house this morning.”

I recoiled at the thought of my father in my house. “What did he do? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no,” my mother replied, waving her hand. “It’s just hard to see him. It brings back a lot of pain that I thought I had buried.”

I took my mom’s hand. I had been so self absorbed lately that I hadn’t fully considered how all of this would be affecting her.

“Anyway,” she continued, taking a shaky breath, “He told me he didn’t want to be in contact with me, which is completely fine, but he said he does want to be a part of your life. I told him you didn’t want that, but he said he wasn’t giving up.”

I chewed on my lip, remembering what Frog had said about his dad, how they had made amends. “I’ll talk to him,” I said quietly.

My mom’s eyes widened. “Kayla, are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m not going to trust him just yet, but I’ll hear what he has to say to me. I can at least give him that.”

My mother closed her eyes. “Okay. But you will be careful?”

“Of course.”

She took a few breaths and then opened her eyes. “You are an incredible young woman, Kayla.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you for this. I think it was good to tell you about it, to get it out. Now let’s get back to work.”

She gave me a quick hug and walked out of the kitchen. I stood there for a few seconds to collect myself, then followed her out.

A couple hours later, when things had calmed down some at the diner, I saw Milo Kowalski walk through the doors.

“Hey Kayla,” he said sheepishly as he approached the front counter. “I was wondering if I could get your help on some English homework.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. I wasn’t used to people asking me for help with their studies, but things were under control at the moment and I was pretty sure my mom could spare me for a half an hour. Plus, talking to Milo would be a welcome change.

“Sure,” I said, coming around the counter and pointing to an empty booth in the corner. “Let’s sit there.” After we had both settled into the booth, I looked at Milo expectantly. “So, what’s your homework?” I urged.

Milo pulled a notebook out of his backpack, where I could see he had two or three sentences written. “I’m supposed to write a paper about modern day fairytale equivalents, but I just can’t...” he trailed off, staring down at his notebook.

“Milo?”

He snapped his head up. “Sorry,” he said, “it’s just that... I usually used to do this with Frog. I’d go over to his house to study, even though I didn’t really get a lot of studying done, and we would watch TV or he’d make dinner or something.”

I held back a smile. Milo hadn’t come to get my help with homework. He had come because he missed Frog. He was lonely.

“Was Frog a good cook?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” Milo replied. “You wouldn’t believe the stuff he made. Chili and grilled chicken and lasagna... his mom was out of town a lot, so I think he got pretty comfortable in the kitchen.”

I leaned forward, intrigued by this new information. “I never knew that.”

“Did you know he could dance, too?” Milo said with a mischievous smile.

“No, I didn’t.”

“I don’t think he wanted anyone to know, but I caught him a few times. He’s actually really good.”

We sat there and talked about Frog for about an hour until a large group came into the diner and I saw my mom motion for me to help.

“I need to get back to work,” I said regretfully. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”

“No, I better get home,” Milo said, packing up his things. “Thanks for your help.”

I nodded, knowing that he wasn’t talking about his schoolwork. “Anytime,” I replied. “Good luck with that paper.”

The rest of the evening seemed to fly by. Not only were we relatively busy, but I kept finding myself thinking about Frog. He had been a really good friend to Milo, and I had been impressed to learn about all of his hidden talents. I thought about him so much that by the time we closed the diner I was filled with an intense desire to talk to him, to hear his voice. I went back into the kitchen and tried to prepare the dishes to wash them, but I couldn’t concentrate. Finally, in a moment of bravery, I pulled out my phone and called him.

“Hello?”

I flinched. His voice sounded deeper, huskier.

“Frog? Is that you?”

“Kayla! How are you?”

I looked at the time and realized that it was probably in the middle of the night in Gulbrania. “Oh no, did I wake you up? What time is it there?”

He chuckled. “It’s five in the morning. But don’t worry, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“You sound... different.”

He cleared his throat. “Um... it must be the connection. Or maybe I’m going through puberty again or something.”

I laughed. I had missed his casual jokes. “Maybe you’ll get even taller.” I teased.

“I hope not. I hit my head on enough doorways as it is. What are you up to?”

“I’m about to wash the dishes at the diner.”

“With that big power sprayer?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that is one of my favorite memories of you.”

I made a face. “Really? In gross clothes and soaking wet?”

“You were blasting those dishes like they’d personally offended you or something. It was awesome! And I thought your clothes actually made you more attractive, if that’s even possible.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “I guess I ought to wear dirty sweats more often.”

“You should. You might start a fashion revolution.”

I smiled and felt warmth spread throughout my body, but I decided to change the topic before things got too uncomfortable. “So how are things over there? Are you going to school?”

There was a pause. “I’m not, actually. They, um, do things a little differently in Gulbrania, so I’m being tutored.”

“Tutored? Wow, fancy.”

“Hardly. I spend most of my time getting my butt kicked.”

“By your tutor?”

“Yeah. He’s really big on physical education.”

I laughed, wishing I could know more about what it was like in Gulbrania, what Frog was doing on a day to day basis.

“How are things for you at school?” Frog asked, sounding a little more serious.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I replied, not really wanting to talk about it. “I’m handling it, but every day I get more excited to leave and go to college.”

“I can understand that.”

“So, do you think you’ll ever make it back to Indiana?”

“I hope I do someday. Why do you ask?”

I felt my breath catch in my throat with sudden emotion. “Well, I miss you. And to be honest, Frog, I... I love you.

I waited breathlessly for his response after that hasty admission, but he didn’t say anything. I heard some shuffling, and then the call was disconnected.

Chapter Sixteen

Frog

I was equal parts elated and horrified. When Kayla had said those glorious words, I had been so shocked that I fell out of my bed and landed right on top my phone. By all appearances, it was broken. The screen was cracked, there was no light, and there was no sound. What horrible timing! I thought. The girl of your dreams confesses her love to you and you have no way to respond! She had completely put herself out there and I had left her hanging because of my stupid clumsiness.

I got up and paced around my room, thinking about what had happened and what I could do. She loved me! And she loved me, she loved who I had been, scrawny, speckled and ugly, not the strapping guy I was now. It was incredible! And I agonized over the fact that I couldn’t talk to her.

After about an hour of pacing and processing, I threw on some clothes and went to look for Zane. I knew that most mornings he was in the training room, preparing for the day’s instruction. I didn’t find him there, but I did find him in the kitchen, eating a biscuit.

“Zane! I am so glad to see you!”

He jumped and nearly dropped his biscuit. “Hey Freddy, what’s up with you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so pumped up.”

“She loves me!” I exclaimed, unable to contain myself. “Kayla loves me!”

To my surprise, Zane frowned. “She does?”

“Yeah, she just told me on the phone.”

Zane tapped his fingers on the counter. “Interesting.”

“But then I broke my phone,” I said, holding it out to him. “Can you fix it?”

Zane took my phone and inspected it. “I’m pretty sure I can, but it will take a few days.”

I exhaled. There was hope. But I really didn’t want to wait a few days. I wanted to talk to Kayla that instant. What was more, I wanted to see her. My heart jumped at the thought of going back to Indiana. I could probably find a way to do it. I could sneak away and leave for a few days, or maybe even a few weeks. Sure, I’d be abandoning my responsibilities and disappointing my parents, but Kayla Morrison loved me. Nothing else seemed to matter.

I glanced over at Zane. “Hey Zane, if I took those dissimulation capsules again, what would happen?”

He raised his eyebrows. “At this point? Probably nothing. You’ve already gone through a rigorous process that reversed their effects, so it’s almost like you’re immune to them now.”

I grimaced. So I couldn’t go back to looking the way I had before, but maybe I could make up some explanation for why I looked different.

“Are you trying to figure out a way to get back to Indiana?” Zane asked, looking thoughtfully at me.

I shifted. “Maybe.” I knew I shouldn’t be confiding to Zane, but maybe he could help. “I mean, it’d only be for a few days, what could possibly happen in that time?”

“Believe me, about ten thousand things could happen,” Zane replied, narrowing his eyes. “But the chances of disaster would be a lot less if you took the proper security measures.”

My mouth fell open. “So, you’re going to help me?”

“Maybe,” he said, his eyes calculating, “especially if we do it in a way that misleads the Jumerum and keeps you out of harm’s way,” he mused. His eyes lit up. “We could fake your death!”

Before I could voice my concerns, Tabitha Dahl burst into the kitchen, followed closely by her niece.

“Mr. Vonnegan!” She scolded. “You are late for your etiquette lesson!”

I smiled. After what Kayla had said to me that morning, not even the prospect of an etiquette lesson with Kirsten could put a damper on my mood.

“I apologize, Ms. Dahl, what can I do to make it up to you?”

Momentarily flustered, it took her a moment to respond. “You can come with me this instant!” She commanded.

I nodded and followed her out of the kitchen.

“I’ll work on a plan,” Zane muttered as I passed by him. “I’ll let you know.”

I was a little bit worried about what Zane’s plan might end up being, but if he helped me get to Indiana to see Kayla, I really couldn’t complain. Tabitha led us into the training room, then turned to face me.

“We’ll be reviewing some things today, but first, I need to relay some items of importance from the queen. She wanted me to tell you that they’ve decided to hold the presentation gala in the banquet hall of the old castle, so be prepared to travel to the surface on that evening.”

“In the old castle? Really?” I asked.

“Yes.” Tabitha responded. “I believe they are aiming for a more traditional feel. Secondly, with the gala being only a few days away, the queen would like to know if you’ve found a date.”

I sighed. Finding a date was the furthest thing from my mind, but I knew my mom would be disappointed if she knew I still hadn’t found someone.

I turned to Kirsten. “Hey Kirsten, would you like to go to the gala with me?”

She gasped and started to tremble. “More than life itself!” She said breathlessly.

Ms. Dahl stood there looking sour, in stark contrast to Kirsten’s raptures. “That was a rather casual way of asking the young lady to accompany you,” she sniffed. “But I suppose it will have to do.”

Chapter Seventeen

Kayla

I finally rolled out of bed at 10:30. I had told my mother I felt sick that morning before she left to go to the diner. I don’t think she believed me, but she called the school and informed them of my absence anyway.

I had spent most of the night stressing about my conversation with Frog, about what I had said, and more importantly, about how he had reacted. I wasn’t even certain that I loved him, so I didn’t know why I had said that. I had strong feelings for him for sure, but I wondered if telling him that I loved him was some kind of desperate plea for attention. Regardless, the way he had responded made it clear that he did not have the same feelings for me.

I stumbled to my bathroom and splashed water over my face. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I take a hint? First I had kissed him and he hadn’t talked to me for over a month, and then I had blurted out that I loved him and he had hung up on me. It was all so ridiculous. Why was I spending so much energy worrying about him? He wasn’t that great, and he definitely was not that attractive. I went back into my room and pulled out a yearbook from last year. I flipped it open and found his picture. I stared at it, willing myself to be repulsed or at least disinterested. It was a pretty awful picture of him, with his stringy hair and huge eyes and his face covered in acne. I tried to convince myself that he wasn’t worth my emotions, that there was nothing special about him. But I couldn’t. I knew him. I knew his talents and his sense of humor and that quiet strength that made him keep showing up at school even though everyone bullied him.

I shut the yearbook and sighed. I couldn’t deny that I had romantic feelings for Frog, but I was going to have to get over them quick. I had a fleeting thought that maybe I had overwhelmed him, like Milo had suggested before, but I buried it. It wasn’t going to do me any good to hold on to slim possibilities. I was going to have to deal with the fact that Frog had been a wonderful friend, and just forget about him. And the best way to forget about him was to stop moping around my house.

I got myself ready and headed over to the school, making it in time for orchestra class, where I actually paid attention for the first time in weeks. After that was lunch. I got my food and went to sit with Milo at our table in the corner. I wasn’t really looking forward to talking to him, because inevitably he would bring up Frog, but I figured I could try and steer the conversation away from that topic.

“So, are you ready for chem lab today?” Milo asked as I sat down.

I racked my brain, trying to remember what was supposed to happen in class. “I guess so,” I replied hesitantly.

Milo raised his eyebrows. “We’re dissecting frogs.”

Before I could groan, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Miranda standing behind me. Her face was slightly puffy, as if she’d been crying.

“Hey Kayla, can I sit here?”

I narrowed my eyes at her, then looked behind her, wondering if this was some kind of trick. She sat down next to me, not waiting for an answer.

“Kayla, I believe you,” she said, staring at the table, “about what happened with you and Wyatt.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling indignant. “What did he do to you?”

“He forced me to...” and then Miranda broke into tears.

I didn’t know what to do. On one hand, she had been awful to me the past few weeks, but on the other hand, I knew how she was feeling, and no one should have to feel that way.

I leaned closer to her and lowered my voice. “Miranda, are you... pregnant?”

“No, he didn’t get that far,” she sniffed. “But he probably would have if my dad hadn’t come in.”

“Your dad? Where were you?”

“In my bedroom.”

I shook my head, shocked at Wyatt’s audacity. To try something like that at her house when her parents were home was ludicrous.

“Kayla, I know I’ve been terrible to you, and I’m so sorry. Do you think we could be friends again?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to be friends with Milo too.”

Miranda looked at him and Milo gave her an impish wave. She shrugged. “That’s fine.”

I stared at her. This was the girl who didn’t even want to go near unpopular people, and she hadn’t even hesitated. The experience with Wyatt must have really changed her.

“Okay,” I said, nodding, “let’s work on being friends.”

She smiled and wiped the tears from her face. “Thanks, Kayla. And thank you too, Milo.”

Milo reddened. “Anytime,” he replied awkwardly.

“So you’ll probably want to change your seat in chem lab,” I said quickly. “I don’t think we can have three at our table, but I bet you could switch with one of the football players.”

I glanced over at Miranda, but she wasn’t paying attention. She had shrunk back in her chair and was looking at someone behind me. I knew exactly who it was.

“Looks like rejects band together,” Wyatt laughed, leering at Miranda. “You’re building up quite the little convent over here.”

I was so angry at Wyatt that I was ready to hit him over the head with my chair. But before I couldn’t do anything, Milo jumped out of his seat and walked over to Wyatt. He only came up to his chest.

“Haven’t you done enough?” He said defiantly. “Leave them alone already!”

Wyatt looked down at Milo and chuckled. “Or what, little man? Are you going to punch me in the knees?”

Milo inclined his head. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” He grabbed his lunch tray and slammed it into Wyatt’s knees, causing him to buckle over, then Milo elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“I will kill you, you little hobbit!” Wyatt yelled, lunging at Milo. Milo slipped out of the way and Wyatt crashed into a chair. He straightened and whipped around, ready to charge at Milo again, but I quickly stood in front of him.

“I wouldn’t fight back,” I said evenly. “That’s not going to help your case.”

Wyatt glared at me for a moment, then snarled and walked away.

I sat back down at the table and turned my attention to Milo, who was calmly eating his sandwich. “That was really impressive,” I said.

Milo shrugged. “It’s just something I learned from playing so much Street Fighter V.”

“I know that game,” Miranda said quietly. “I played it a few times back in middle school.”

Milo’s eyebrows shot up. “Cool. We should all play it sometime.”

“Yeah, that’d be fun,” Miranda replied with a tentative smile.

I shook my head. This was all so weird, but I was liking where it was headed.

Chapter Eighteen

Frog

“Okay, Freddy, here’s the zombie powder,” Zane said, handing me a small, sealed bag of reddish dust.

“Is that really what it’s called?” I asked, tucking it into an inside pocket of my suit.

“No, it’s got some fancy Latin name, but that’s what I like to call it,” Zane replied with a sly grin.

We were in a small waiting room at the top of a massive staircase that led down into the banquet hall of the old castle. Travel up to the surface from below had been pretty congested with everyone trying to get up for the gala, but somehow, nearly a thousand people had successfully made the trip. I could hear the noise of the crowd that was gathered down in the banquet hall, and my nerves were about to overtake my senses. Not only was I anxious about being presented to all those people and playing my guitar in front of them, but I was also on edge about Zane’s risky plan to get me to Indiana.

“Near the end of the banquet, they’re going to do a ceremonial toast for your entrance into Gulbranian society,” Zane explained. “Just pour the powder in your glass and drink it down. Make sure you’re not near anything sharp because you’ll loose consciousness immediately, and you don’t want to injure yourself unnecessarily. It’ll look like someone poisoned you, and you’ll appear lifeless for about three hours.”

“And then what?”

“The security team will transport you to the airport. You should be awake by the time you get there.”

I shook my head. There seemed to be a million things that could go wrong with this plan. “How do you think my parents are going to feel about this when they find out?”

“Oh, they’ll be livid,” Zane replied. “They’ll go berserk. I might just lose my job,” he added, smiling excitedly. “But if it gives them an advantage over the Jumerum, and I think it will, then they’ll forgive me. And you’ll get to see your girl, so, it’s a win-win!”

I gulped. Nothing about this seemed like a win-win. I felt immense guilt at the impending grief I was going to be inflicting on my parents. What kind of son was I? To fake my own death just to go see some girl? And yet, she wasn’t just some girl. She was the girl of my dreams, and she loved me. Plus, my parents had put me through a lot of pain over the past ten years, so I figured that on some level, this was payback.

“Anyway,” Zane said, patting me on the back, “I’ve got to go. Your date is going to be here soon. Good luck!” Then he turned and nearly skipped out the door.

I looked once again at my reflection in the mirror across the room. I had to admit that the royal suit was really nice, with its regal high neck and the threads of Gulbranak woven in. I once again had to remind myself that this was the real me, even though I still felt like that scrawny guy that had been tormented so often back in Indiana. A few moments later I heard giggling outside the door, and I knew that Kirsten had arrived. I took a deep breath and stepped out to meet her.

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed. “You look so amazing.”

I reddened. Her unadulterated adoration was a little embarrassing. “You look very nice as well,” I replied. She did, in fact, look very pretty. Her blonde hair was done up and she was wearing a pink dress that was probably a little too tight, but my thoughts at that moment were almost entirely on Kayla. Nothing could compare to her beauty, the kind that radiated from deep within her because of the amazing person she was.

Kirsten took her phone out of a small clutch and handed it to a guard that was standing at the top of the staircase.

“Will you take our picture?” She gushed, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer. The guard quickly complied, then instructed us to wait silently for the announcement.

We stood there for a few agonizing moments, and I took the time to study the banquet hall. It was beautifully decorated, with lush greenery and ornate lanterns that framed the huge windows that lined each side of the giant room. Then the crowd below quieted and a loud, deep voice spoke through a microphone.

“People of Gulbrania, may I present to you your prince, Frederick Vonnegan!”

I took Kirsten’s arm and we descended the staircase to loud applause that didn’t let up until we reached the bottom. A few members of the press took our picture, and then we stood there awkwardly with everyone staring at us. I didn’t know what to do or how to react. Was I supposed to say something? Then two dignitaries came forward to greet me, and the room broke into the pleasant sounds of chatting and laughter. From that point on, there seemed to be an endless supply of important people who wanted to meet me and introduce themselves. At first my conversation with them was stilted and uncomfortable, but after about an hour I fell into a congenial pattern of conversation, and I was actually grateful for Tabitha’s etiquette lessons. Kirsten didn’t leave my side or even let go of my arm, which was actually fine with me, because whenever there was a lull in the conversation, she jumped right in.

We finally broke away long enough to get a drink, and Kirsten pointed to a tall, gangly teenager with a large nose and beady eyes.

“Do you see that guy?” She whispered, her eyes playful.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Why? Is he someone important?”

“No,” Kirsten giggled. “I have no idea who he is. But he is so ugly! Have you ever seen anyone so unattractive?”

I straightened, feeling a little sick to my stomach. In just those few words Kirsten had shown me her true colors, and I wondered how she would have felt about me if she had met me just a few months before.

“Yes, actually, I have,” I said soberly. “I used to see someone uglier than that every day in my mirror.”

She gave me a puzzled look, but then went back to preening for pictures and finding other people to gossip about. I had never appreciated Kayla more. After that I made it a point to go talk to the gangly guy, who turned out to be really funny and nice.

The evening seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was on a small stage, preparing to perform for an expectant audience. My fingers were a little stiff as I started to play my guitar, but after a few moments my anxiety melted away as I got caught up in the music that had always been such a helpful distraction in my life. I played and sang the same song I had performed at the school talent show months ago, but there was no screen in front of me, and nobody laughed or made fun of me. When I ended there was abundant applause, but I wasn’t sure if it was because they had really enjoyed it or if they just felt obligated to please me.

Immediately following the performance was the ceremonial toast, and all of my nervousness came rushing back. I sat down at a long table as the glasses were filled. My father stood and was saying something about me, but I couldn’t concentrate on his words because I was so consumed with what I was about to do. For a moment I considered abandoning the plan, of saving my parents the momentary heartache, but my desire to see Kayla was so strong that I was willing to go through this bizarre charade. I had the presence of mind to notice that my father was finishing up, and I reached inside my suit pocket to retrieve the powder.

And then, suddenly, an alarm sounded. Most of the people looked confused or afraid, but when I glanced at my dad, he almost seemed excited.

“Citizens of Gulbrania, we are under attack,” a sterile voice announced through the speakers. “There are evacuation routes on the east side of the hall. Please evacuate immediately.”

There was a grating sound as five large tunnels opened up along the wall on the east side. I watched as large groups of guests in formal wear fled through the openings. A few moments later, the windows shattered as dozens of armed people crashed through them, rappelling onto the floor. There were about 200 guests that had not yet evacuated, and they picked up the pace of their exit at the sight of the obvious danger.

In utter confusion, I scanned the hall and saw my mother and father and a number of their agents and guards engaged in combat with the armed intruders. What is going on? I thought as I stood there, dumbfounded. Then I saw a familiar face.

Over by the refreshment table, I noticed Boris Haugen, the man who had kidnapped me a month ago, grappling with one of the guards. That’s when everything started to make sense. This was the Jumerum. And of course it was the Jumerum, who else would be attacking us? But I only got to bask in my revelation for a moment before someone shot me in the shoulder. I was propelled backward from the force, and I fell under the table. I groaned as I grabbed the place where the bullet had hit me, but to my surprise, there was no blood, no hole, not even a tear in my suit. The only thing I felt was a little soreness.

“Frederick! Are you alright?” Alm exclaimed as he slid under the table next to me.

“I... I think so. I thought I got shot, but...”

“It’s the Gulbranak,” Alm interjected.

“What?”

“The Gulbranak in your suit. It’s bullet proof. Look,” he said, pointing out at the melee, “we all have it.”

I peered over the table and focused a little closer on the fight. It was pretty easy to see who the Gulbranians were because they were all dressed up. I watched the Jumerum fruitlessly firing their guns at their opponents. The bullets just bounced right off of their clothing. One guard raised his arm to protect his face from a shot. Even my mom, who was fighting expertly in a regal ballgown, was effectively shielded from the Jumerum’s guns.

“So, are you just going to hide here all night?” Alm asked.

I stared at him. His eyes were oddly bright. “What do you mean?”

“This is your fight too, kid.” He smiled at me, then charged back out onto the floor.

I gulped. It was one thing to practice combat in training, but an entirely different thing to experience it in real life. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. I considered just staying under the table while everyone else fought. I needed to stay alive for the Gulbranak, right? I rationalized that it would be selfish for me to go out there and risk my life. But then I watched my parents as they relentlessly battled against the Jumerum. I watched everyone else do their part, and I realized that they were doing it for me, for Gulbrania. And for the first time in my life, I felt a sense of pride for my homeland.

I stood and headed into the battle, attracting the attention of several members of the Jumerum. They all fired their guns at me. One bullet missed, one hit me in the leg, and the rest appeared to be darts, which, luckily, my suit protected against as well. I came up on the side of a large man who was attacking Alm and roundhouse kicked him in the ribs, knocking him to the ground.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!” Alm shouted. It was the most emotion I’d ever seen him show.

From there I engaged with a woman with red, spiky hair and a vicious look in her eyes. At first I fought tentatively, feeling weird about attacking a female, but when she head-butted me, I knew that all bets were off. I punched her in the chin while she was trying to stick a dart in me, sending her toppling backwards. I went on, fighting with several other members of the Jumerum, knocking some of them out and getting pretty beat up in the process. I might have been tempted to congratulate myself on my relative success, but I had noticed that some of the Gulbranian agents and guards were hovering close to me, making sure I didn’t get shot or taken. At one point a dart whizzed past my ear and stuck into the neck of a guard on my left, and she promptly passed out.

Several minutes later, when I couldn’t find anyone else to fight, I looked around and triumphantly realized that all of the Jumerum were either unconscious, incapacitated, or tied up. The Gulbranian guards and agents looked battered, but from what I could tell, they were all alive. The adrenaline that had been coursing through me just moments before seemed to disappear as I collapsed in a nearby chair, feeling exhausted but strangely at ease.

“Is that all of them?” I heard my dad say from across the room.

“Yes, your Highness,” Alm responded, “looks like we got the whole organization.”

My father smiled and I saw my mom sigh in relief as she wiped some blood off of her cheek. The two of them came together and kissed long enough to make me feel really uncomfortable. “We did it, Evelyn,” my father whispered, kissing her lightly again. When they finally broke apart, my dad turned back to Alm. “And how did we fare?”

“Lila got sedated, Bruce broke his leg and Phineas got shot in the hand, but otherwise, everyone is fine, including,” he added, pointing to me, “the prince.”

My father joyfully rushed over to me and embraced me, which was a little weird, since he hadn’t shown much affection in the last few weeks.

“We did it, son!” He exclaimed. “We captured all of the Jumerum! They fell for the trap!”

I frowned. “Trap? So, wait, you knew they were coming?”

“Of course!” My father responded unabashedly. “We purposely leaked the information about your presentation gala and decided to hold it up here on land. We knew the Jumerum wouldn’t be able to resist having both of us in one place!”

I felt my temper rising. “You used me as bait?” I shouted. “You guys went behind my back and planned out this whole thing?” I couldn’t control my anger. It was too much. They had left me in the dark, again.

“Frederick, it was all completely controlled,” my father explained, waving his hand in the air. “Your were protected the entire time. There were a dozen guards assigned to you, your suit is bulletproof, and there’s even a deflecting mechanism in your collar that redirects bullets away from you.”

I shook my head. I felt betrayed. Never mind that just a few minutes ago I had been planning to fake my own death and run off to Indiana. This somehow seemed a lot worse. “I just don’t know that I’m ever going to be able to trust you,” I said, leveling a nasty glare at my father.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking serious for the first time that night. “Frederick, I’m sorry that we’ve kept so much from you, but now with the Jumerum out of the way, we can turn over a new leaf.”

I rolled my eyes at him. I wasn’t going to let him get off the hook with promises. I knew he had his reasons for what he did, and they were probably really good reasons, but I was still mad.

I was about to reply with another snarky comment when the sound of a bullet ripped through the air. I looked around to see where it had come from, but the next moment my father was falling forward and hitting the floor in front of me. There was blood running from the back of his head. I heard my mom screaming.

I managed to tear my eyes away from the impossible scene in front of me to see a man sitting on the floor across the hall, holding a gun. His legs were tied together. He must have wriggled out of his bonds to reach the weapon.

“You’ll never kill the Jumerum,” he wheezed with a sickly smile, and then he took aim at me.

Another gunshot rang out and the man collapsed. Alm ran over to make sure he was dead, then he ran to my father, who was lying still on the floor.

I fell to my knees, looking between the lifeless form of my dad and my mother, who was crouched down next to him, shaking with sobs. It all felt so surreal. I couldn’t react, couldn’t feel. Had my dad really just been killed?

A stocky guard approached me. “Your highness, do we have your permission to take your father to the hospital for final preparations?”

I stared at the guard in confusion. What was he talking about? “I don’t... why are you asking me?”

“Your father is dead,” my mom managed to choke out. “You’re in charge, Frederick. They report to you now.”

I felt as if an unknown force was pulling me into the floor. In my silence, the guard spoke again.

“Do we have your permission to defer to the queen?”

“Yes,” I whispered, feeling as if someone else was saying it.

Everything became blurry as several guards carefully lifted my father’s body and took it from the room, my mother following close behind them.

The rest of the guards took the dead, unconscious, and bound Jumerum members out of the hall, but I barely saw any of it. I couldn’t process anything, it was too much. I put my hand on my chest in an attempt to steady my breathing, and I felt something in my suit pocket. The zombie powder. I closed my eyes.

Indiana.

Kayla.

None of that mattered anymore.

Chapter Nineteen

Kayla

I lingered in the student government room after school to fill out my application to run for student body president. I figured I would just go for it. I didn’t have much to lose. I finished up and went out into the nearly deserted hallway where I was met with a strange sight. Outside the vice principal’s office, Mrs. Youngblood was talking to my dad. I was surprised that he was in the school. I thought they had better security than to just let ex convicts roam the halls. Mrs. Youngblood looked distressed, and when she saw me, she pointed in my direction and then disappeared into her office. My dad smiled and walked toward me, and it took all my resolve not to run away. I could at least hear him out. I would give him a chance.

“Hi honey,” he said confidently, making like he was going to give me a hug.

I backed away and gave him a warning glare.

“Okay, I get it,” he said, chuckling. “It’s too soon. I spoke with your mother-”

“I know. She told me,” I said curtly.

“She said you were willing to talk to me,” he continued, disregarding what I had just said.

“Yeah. I want some answers,” I responded.

He shrugged. “Fair enough. Do you want to go to the park by the library?”

I stared at him. It was freezing outside. But at least that would give me an excuse to cut our conversation short.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll meet you there.” There was no way I was going to get in a car with him.

Ten minutes later, I was pulling my coat close around me as I sat down on a bench that faced a small pond. Next to me, my dad sighed contentedly.

“I used to bring you here all the time,” he said, looking out at the pond. “We’d feed the geese when they were here in the summertime.”

I gave a slight nod. I had a faint memory of it, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. All my memories of my father became tainted with bitterness when he betrayed us. There were a few moments of silence, and then my father turned to me.

“So, how have you been?” He asked.

I almost laughed. What a loaded question. “I’ve been fine,” I responded. “Mom and I have gotten along just great without you.”

“You’re both working yourselves to death at that decrepit diner,” he scoffed. “I wouldn’t call that getting along great.”

“We’re fine,” I asserted.

“Alright, alright,” he said, putting his hands up. “So how has school been for you? What are your hobbies?”

I took a deep breath. “Dad, I really don’t want to sit here, in the cold, talking about how the last ten years have been without you,” I said sharply. “What I really want to know, is why you did it? What in the world could have possibly driven you to nearly kill someone?”

My dad leaned back on the bench and chewed on his lip. “Honestly? Money. Lots of money.”

I felt sick. “Money? And was that worth abandoning your family and becoming a despicable human being?”

“No, it was not,” he admitted, looking regretful for the first time. Then he looked at me, his eyes intense. “But you’ve got to understand, Kayla. We were always struggling back then, and when an opportunity came that offered so much possibility, so many ways to turn our lives around, I had to take it. I know I was naive then, but there’s a part of me that still wishes I had completed the job.”

I swallowed. Okay, so I could recognize that he felt some remorse, but he hadn’t completely changed. At least he was being honest.

“I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, Kayla, I really am,” he said, his expression darkening. “But now I’ve been offered a second chance to make it up to you.”

I nodded. He was out of prison, he could make a clean start. “A second chance to start over with your family?”

“No, to finish the job.”

“What?” I yelled, jumping off the bench. You caused us so much agony, and you spent ten years in jail, and now you’re just going to go try and kill someone again?”

“Quiet down!” My father scolded, glancing around. “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

I shook my head in bewilderment. “Then what is it that you’re going to do?”

“I’m going to kidnap someone.”

I was ready to scream. “Oh, and that’s so much better?”

“Just listen. Back then they were trying to kill the guy, but since then they’ve gotten new information, and they know they need to keep him alive.”

“Him? And who is ‘they’?”

“The organization that recruited me in the first place. They’re very prestigious, very moral.”

“Oh yeah, going around trying to kill people is very ethical,” I scoffed.

“No really, they are. They’re trying to redistribute a rare metal that this guy and his country are hoarding. If they succeed, it could really change the world.”

I closed my eyes. This just didn’t ring true. I couldn’t believe I was listening to this.

“And if we succeed,” my father said meaningfully, I could give you whatever kind of life you want. Wherever you want to go, whoever you want to be, I’d have the resources to make it happen.”

I stepped back. “What do you mean we?”

“This is why I wanted to talk to you, honey. I could really use your help. You’d be able to get around easier than I could, provide distractions... of course, I’d make sure that you were completely safe.”

I started to shake with anger. “Are you kidding me? There is no way I’m going to go help you illegally kidnap the guy you tried to kill before.”

“Actually, it’s not the same guy,” my father said nonchalantly. “That guy is already dead. It’s his son that they need.”

“Son?” I said incredulously. “And who is this person?”

My dad leaned forward. “It’s the crown prince of Gulbrania.”

“Gulbrania?” I choked out.

“Yeah, some cheeky teenage boy. He’s probably a spoiled brat.”

I rubbed my forehead. This was so weird. Gulbrania? What were the odds?

My dad stood and put his hand on my shoulder. I was so distracted by my thoughts that I didn’t even pull away. “Let me know if you change your mind,” he said, slipping a piece of paper into my hand. A phone number. “I could really use your help, and the reward would be life changing.”

I stared at my father, and I had a sinking feeling as I realized we were alike. We were both driven, ambitious, we liked to be in control. But I could never let myself go that far. He squeezed my shoulder and walked away, leaving me alone by the bench in the empty park. All I wanted to do at that moment was to get as far away from him as possible.

*****

I closed my laptop in frustration. I had spent the last hour looking up Gulbrania, trying to find out anything about this mysterious metal, or the royal family, or how I might be able to send a message to them, but I had found virtually nothing. I remembered that Frog had once said they were a very private country, and my futile search definitely proved that point. All I could find was an old picture of a castle on a cliff near the ocean, and a blurry picture of their prince. From what I could tell, he seemed muscular and handsome, but that didn’t much help my cause.

Ever since my father had asked for my help with his awful task the day before, I had been consumed with finding a way to warn the prince. I knew it was a long shot, but I figured there must be some kind of social media channel or royal security line where I could send them a message of the impending threat. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even find a single article relating to the country, much less somebody’s contact information. It was almost as if the country were made up.

I fell back on my bed. I should just forget about it, I thought. This had nothing to do with me, this wasn’t my fight. And yet, it was, because my selfish father had told me about it. And now, if he got the job done and kidnapped that guy, I’d always feel this awful guilt that I didn’t do anything about it. And yet, what could I do about it?

I looked at my phone, thinking about the option I had been avoiding. I could just call Frog, who was conveniently in Gulbrania, and see if he could get a message to the prince, but I really didn’t want to have to go that route. Not only had I decided to leave him alone, but I was also a little afraid that he wouldn’t answer. I rolled my eyes at my own juvenile behavior. If me calling Frog could somehow help the prince not get captured, I needed to just do it. I picked up my phone and pressed the button to call Frog, then waited anxiously, trying to figure out how I was going to explain the situation to him without sounding crazy. My heart sank when I heard it go straight to voicemail.

“Hey, Frog, this is Kayla. Sorry to bother you, but I just found out that the prince of your country is in danger, and I thought you might be able to warn him somehow.” I shook my head. I sounded so stupid. “Anyway, just please call me when you get this.”

I ended the call and sighed. I was disappointed that he hadn’t answered, but at least I had done something. I checked the time. I had a volleyball game in 30 minutes, and if I didn’t get going I would be late.

I got dressed in my uniform and drove over to the school, wondering why I was even bothering to go to the game. Coach Hartwell had benched me for every game so far, and I knew I wouldn’t be playing, but I needed a distraction.

I halfheartedly went through warm ups with the team then took my place behind the sidelines. I got lost in my thoughts, but about 15 minutes into the game, I heard several gasps from the crowd. I looked up and saw that one of the girls was limping off the court, with the help of two other players.

“Oh, crap,” Coach Hartwell muttered, then she turned to me. “Morrison, get in there.”

I shrugged and went to fill the vacant spot on the court. For the first few minutes I didn’t have to do much, the ball didn’t really come my way often and the other players must have known not to pass to me. I did a couple lackluster bumps and sets that managed to do the job, but for the most part my mind was on Gulbrania. I saw the ball zooming towards my face and put up an arm to block it, causing it to go straight to the floor. My teammates scowled at me and I heard Coach Hartwell yelling from the sideline.

“Morrison! Get yourself together!”

I nodded and tried harder to focus on the game, and then an idea struck me. What if I just told my dad I’d help him? Then I’d be able to get to Gulbrania and possibly warn the prince or some royal official myself. The thought sent a jolt of energy through my body. I jumped up and effectively blocked the ball from coming over to our side. I was sure that if I went to Gulbrania I’d be able to break away from my father at some point to foil his plan. Possible scenarios flickered through my mind as I spiked the ball over the net. I thought about what I might tell my mom. I’d have to lie to her, which I hated, but I felt it was for a good cause. I spiked the ball again. But won’t it be dangerous? I thought. Probably, even though my dad had promised he’d keep me safe, and there were no promises about what would happen after I betrayed my father. But wasn’t this what life was all about? Taking chances? Doing things that actually mattered? Things that went far beyond this high school?

It was my turn to serve. I aced it three times before the other team could return it. As much as I didn’t want to spend extra time with my father, this seemed like one of the only ways to set things right and save that prince from being kidnapped. I dove down to the floor to bump the ball up, then a few moments later I jumped up to spike it. There was loud cheering, and I had to blink a few times before I processed what was going on. We had won the game. I hadn’t even been keeping score.

I nearly ran off the court to gather my things so I could get home to work out my developing plans.

“Morrison!” Coach Hartwell exclaimed, standing in front of me. “You were amazing!”

“Thanks coach,” I replied, “I quit.”

Chapter Twenty

Frog

I looked all around me, taking in the familiar surroundings. I was back at my high school in Indiana, in an empty hallway. But how did I get there? I saw a man approaching. I recognized him. Mack. But no, his name was Boris. Then something hit me in the neck from behind, and I passed out.

I blinked awake. I wasn’t at the high school. I was in my bed in my room in the castle. It was a dream. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, recalling that bizarre day when Boris had kidnapped and taken me to some cave in Gulbrania. But there had been someone else, hadn’t there? Someone knocked me out from behind.

My musings about that event gave way to the thoughts that had been filling my mind for the past couple days. My father was dead. I was supposed to be king. I groaned and held my head in my hands. I had cried about it, I had screamed about it, and now I just felt numb. It didn’t seem fair that right after my father had come back into my life, he was killed. I had spent so little time with him. And then, of course, I felt terribly guilty about the immature, disrespectful way I had acted right before he died. A part of me wondered if he might have avoided getting shot if he hadn’t been distracted by my ungrateful behavior.

There was a soft knock on my door, and a moment later, my mom stepped in. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there was a defeated look about her, but she was holding it together. She had to, she was the queen. She had had years of practice. She knew what was expected of her. But me? I had no idea.

She came and sat next to me on my bed, taking my hand. “I’m sorry that things have to move along so soon,” she said, “but the country can’t stop because we’re grieving.”

I looked away. I knew where this conversation was going, and I just wasn’t ready for it.

“We’ve scheduled your coronation for Friday.”

I looked at her in alarm. That was only two days away.

“Don’t worry, Frederick, you don’t have to do much. Just walk down the aisle and receive the crown.”

“Yeah, but what about after that?” I asked. “You know, the part where I’m supposed to be in charge of this country?”

“It’ll be fine,” she responded with a small smile. “You’ll have a grace period where you can defer to me or to your advisors while you learn. No one expects you to step in and take control immediately.”

I let out a long breath, feeling completely deflated. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

She put her arm around me. “It’s not your fault.”

I dipped my head. “I hope not.”

She took my face in her hands and turned it to hers. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated forcefully. “Some things are beyond our control.” A tear ran down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away. “I’m going to go meet with the council,” she said, standing. “You can take some time for yourself this morning, but you need to be prepared for some important meetings this afternoon.”

I gave a small nod. My mother gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head, then left my room.

Two days. Two days and I was supposed to magically get over the fact that my father was dead and be prepared to take his place. In two days I was supposed to get past all my insecurities and bad habits. I had never despised being royalty so much.

I didn’t know if two minutes or two hours passed, but suddenly Zane was tentatively coming into my room.

“Hey Frederick,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry about what happened.”

I grunted, not sure how to respond. It probably wasn’t very kingly, but at the moment, I didn’t care.

“Well, anyway,” Zane continued, “I got your phone fixed.” He held it out to me, and when I didn’t reach for it, he just put it on the bed. He turned to leave, but he hesitated at the door. “You’re going to do great, Frederick,” he said. “I’ve always looked up to you. You’ve got a stronger will than most people I know.”

I looked up at Zane, surprised by his observation and vote of confidence. “Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.

He smiled and ducked out the door. I slowly let my gaze travel to my phone on the bed. I picked it up and turned it on, not sure what I was expecting to find. There were some texts from Milo about some calamity in physical education class, and there was a voicemail from Kayla. I turned the phone off and set it on my nightstand. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about Kayla. In fact, I loved her, and I knew a part of me always would. I would always remember our interactions and her kiss and I would always dream about her. But now there were so many facts and differences and responsibilities that separated us. A relationship with her was impossible, so why should I even try?

I fell back in my bed and decided to sleep for a few hours before I had to start preparing to be king.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kayla

I was really beginning to regret my rash decision. The long plane ride to Norway with my father had been extremely uncomfortable, and then we had taken a small boat over rough water to get to Gulbrania where I almost threw up multiple times, and then I practically froze my butt off while we waited in a small cave embedded along the cliffs by the frigid ocean. I felt terrible about lying to my mother - I had told her that I was chosen to attend a special week-long leadership conference for student government, and I really didn’t know what I had gotten myself into. My father had talked and bargained with some pretty seedy people along the way, and I was honestly beginning to wonder if I was going to make it out of Gulbrania alive.

In the cave my dad had mapped out the whole plan for me, which actually turned out to be in my favor. The prince was about to be crowned king, and they were holding the coronation at the castle. His plan was for us to pose as members of the press. After we gained entrance to the castle, he wanted me to go find the prince and somehow tranquilize him so that my dad could come after and smuggle him out of the castle.

“Be very careful with this sedative,” my dad had said as he handed the dart to me. “All you have to do is place it anywhere into his skin and it will take effect immediately.”

I had put it in my pocket without protest, but I knew there was no way I was sticking that into the prince, even if I did manage to find him alone.

I was full of anxiety and anticipation as we approached the castle. On one hand, I’d never been in a castle before, I’d never met a prince, and the prospect of that, even though I was putting myself in a dangerous position, was undeniably exciting.

“May I see your passes?” A guard asked at the entrance.

We handed him our fake certificates, and I held my breath as the guard inspected and scanned them.

“There’s a designated area for the press at the back of the hall,” the guard explained, waving us through.

I followed my father into the castle, awed by its size and grandeur and the feeling of centuries of history hidden within its walls. We dutifully took some pictures with the large cameras we were hefting to play our parts, and as we reached the hall, my dad leaned over and whispered to me.

“The prince is probably in one of the upper rooms,” he divulged. “We have one hour until the coronation begins.” He squeezed my arm. “I know you can do this, honey,” he said, giving me a warm smile. It might have been a tender moment, except for the fact that he was expecting me to do something highly illegal. “Send me a text when you’ve done it,” he added.

I swallowed hard as I walked out of the hall and asked a guard for directions to the nearest restroom. The guard watched me as I started off in the direction that he had indicated, but then someone else came to ask him a question, and while he was distracted, I darted up a staircase to my left. I marveled at the intricate woodwork all around me. I peered into a dining room and a huge library before I found another staircase and followed it up.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard footsteps, and quickly stepped into an alcove until the steps faded away. I gave myself a moment to collect myself, and then ventured into the hallway, which had a large window on one side that overlooked the ocean. At the end of the hallway were two doors. The first one opened into an office, with maps covering the walls. I opened the second door and found a bedroom, and I gasped when I saw a guy standing there, staring out the window. He turned to me, and his eyes widened.

The first thing that struck me was how absolutely gorgeous this guy was. Tall and muscular with a chiseled face and large hazel eyes, and dressed in a regal, high-collared blue suit. This had to be the prince. The second thought I had was that I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t place where, and I didn’t have time to figure it out.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but I have an urgent message,” I said, stepping forward. The prince just stared at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes. I figured it probably was weird for some random girl to wander into his room, but the way he was looking at me was making me nervous. “You’re in danger, and I know you’re about to have your coronation, but you need to get as far away from here as possible.”

The prince blinked a few times and then stepped toward me.

“Kayla?”

I stepped back. This was a little alarming. How did he know my name?

“What in the world are you doing here? How did you get here?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, it was excited and warm. He took another step forward, and suddenly I remembered where I had seen him before. He had been at the school a month or two ago, in the hallway. He had approached me and I had freaked out and flipped him to the floor.

“Kayla, it’s me.”

I shook my head. “What do you mean? How do you know me?”

“It’s me,” he repeated. “It’s Frog.”

I almost laughed. “That’s impossible.”

He ran a hand through his perfect hair. “Believe me, I know it’s crazy, but it is me, Frederick Vonnegan. Look.”

He handed me a half sheet of paper, and I gingerly took it. It appeared to be a program for the coronation, and at the top, in bold letters it read: “Official Coronation of Frederick Vonnegan, Crown Prince of Gulbrania.”

My mouth went dry. This was too much. I dropped the paper and put my hands up. “Okay, I don’t know what kind of mind game you’re trying to play with me, but please stop. I just came here to warn you-”

My babbling was cut short as he took my arm and pulled me to him. Then he kissed me.

And wow, what a kiss.

It was intense and passionate and strangely familiar. I’d kissed these lips before. I’d felt these feelings before. I pulled back slightly and looked into his huge hazel eyes. Frog’s hazel eyes.

“It is you,” I said breathlessly. “But how...?” I ran my hands across his chest and shoulders. “How did this happen?” I asked, immediately blushing, embarrassed by the way I had just touched him.

He smiled, which somehow made him even more handsome. “That is a long story,” he chuckled. “Basically, I was taking these high tech pills that were disguising me for my own safety, even though I didn’t know it, and I didn’t even know I was a prince. So, one night I forgot to take my pills, and I woke up to this,” he said, gesturing to himself.

“It’s not a bad thing to wake up to,” I murmured before I could stop myself.

Frog smiled and ducked his head, as if he didn’t know how good looking he was. Maybe he doesn t know, I thought.

“Anyway,” Frog continued, “I went to the school that day to try and explain to you what happened - it was the day of our world cultures presentation - but you kind of grounded me before I could say anything.

I gasped. Everything was starting to make sense. “I am so sorry!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t know! I couldn’t have known!”

He laughed. “It’s okay, it was my fault. I should have said something instead of staring creepily at you.”

I smiled. It felt so good to be talking with him, to be with him again. “So, wait, you’re a prince?”

Frog sighed. “Yeah, turns out I am. It’s been kind of a wild ride.” His expression darkened a bit. “By the way, the other day, when you called, and you said... well, you know... I’m so sorry about that. I was so shocked about what you said that I fell out of bed and broke my phone.”

I laughed, partly from relief, and partly from the image of him falling out of bed. It seemed as if Frog’s life was full of unlikely scenarios. “This is so crazy and amazing!” I said, stepping forward, unable to resist the urge to be near him. “It’s you! It’s really you!” I leaned in, about to kiss him again, but then I remembered why I had come there in the first place. I jerked back. “Oh crap, it’s you!” I exclaimed. “You’re the one they want to kidnap!”

Frog frowned. “Kidnap?”

“Yes, my dad-”

But I was interrupted by someone bursting through the door.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Frog

I was reluctant to drag my attention away from Kayla. Her presence was both calming and intoxicating, and I just wanted to stand there holding her forever. Sure, I had committed to move on from Kayla Morrison, but it was an entirely different thing when she was standing right in front of me, reminding me of the years I had day dreamed about her and the fact that she had fallen in love with me before I knew I was a prince. But she was looking terrified and someone had come into the room, so I turned around, expecting to see my mother, but finding someone that was perhaps even more of a surprise than Kayla had been.

“Mrs. Youngblood?”

My former vice principal stood there in a tight black catsuit, holding a gun. Altogether, it looked slightly ridiculous.

“Hello Mr. Vonnegan, Miss Morrison,” she said coldly. “Sorry to break up the reunion, but as I expected, Miss Morrison did not follow through with her job.”

She raised her gun and pulled the trigger. I heard a clap of sound, and for a split second a dart was coming at me, but before it reached me, it changed direction and hit Kayla in the arm.

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Frog?” She whispered, and then she collapsed in my arms.

Mrs. Youngblood cursed. “If it weren’t for your stupid deflection device, I would have had you,” she grumbled.

I closed my eyes. The craziness just kept on building. “What is going on?” I exclaimed. “What did you do to her?”

“It should have been done to you,” Mrs. Youngblood replied bitterly. “She’s been heavily sedated. She’ll be out cold for three hours. And it’s going to be such a hassle trying to get out of here with two bodies.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am going to tranquilize you, Mr. Vonnegan. Not right now, of course, because I can’t seem to shoot you and I’m not stupid enough to take you on by myself. I’ll just have to wait until Mr. Morrison gets up here, which should only take a minute now that I’ve alerted him.

“Mr. Morrison?”

“Yes, Kayla’s father,” she replied. “I told him it was a bad idea to bring his daughter along, I knew she couldn’t be trusted, but he insisted. She did, however, succeed in finding you and keeping you in one place long enough for me to come, so at least that was useful.”

I shook my head. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe Kayla wasn’t really here and Mrs. Youngblood wasn’t standing in front of me looking like a super villain. The more she talked, the more confusing it became.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked in bewilderment. “Does this have something to do with me leaving school in the middle of the year?”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you really this thick-headed?” She spat. “Being vice principal at that asinine school was just a cover. I was there to investigate you and try to capture you, but you were always so well protected. I suffered intense repercussions from the Jumerum for letting you slip through our fingers so many times.”

The confession floored me so much that I almost dropped Kayla. “You’re part of the Jumerum?” I said incredulously, thinking back through all of the interactions I’d had with her. “But, I thought...”

“You thought you’d gotten us all?” She interrupted. “No, you idiot. That stunt your father organized did lessen our numbers considerably, but we’re never all in the same place at one time.”

I took a shaky breath, feeling somewhat deflated. This made it seem like my father died in vain. Kayla was beginning to get heavy in my arms, but I still didn’t want to let her go.

“Our organization is still very much alive, Mr. Vonnegan,” she said menacingly, “and after we take you, we have great plans for the Gulbranak.”

I lifted my chin in defiance. “I’ll never let you have it,” I said, surprised at my sudden bravery.

Mrs. Youngblood laughed. “I’m afraid you won’t have much of a choice,” she replied. “we’ll be keeping you sedated for the rest of your life. All we need is your fingerprint and your blood.”

The color drained from my face. The prospect of being unconscious for years and years was terrifying, but I wasn’t ready to give in yet. “Well, maybe I’ll just escape before your associate arrives,” I countered.

She gave me a cruel smile. “That won’t be very easy to do with her,” she said, nodding at Kayla, “and if you leave her behind, I’ll kill her.”

I gulped. This lady knew me too well. I was caught. At that moment, a man appeared in the doorway. A man that had Kayla’s eyes.

“What happened to her?” He exclaimed, taking in the sight of his daughter.

“Calm down, she’s just sedated,” Mrs. Youngblood responded. “But I’m glad you’re finally here. I need your help getting a dart in the prince. He’s got a mechanism in his suit that deflects anything I shoot at him, so we’ll have to do it by hand.”

Mr. Morrison furrowed his eyebrows. “That’s fine, but I need to make sure no harm comes to my daughter.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Vonnegan is crazy about Kayla. I’ve watched him for years. He would never hurt her.”

“Is that so?” Mr. Morrison commented, a fire coming into his eyes that made him exponentially more frightening.

“Nothing happened between us, sir. I was always very respectful.” This was ridiculous. I was trying to win points with a man who wanted to kidnap me and sedate me for the rest of my life. I carefully set Kayla down on my bed, and as I did, I noticed an apple on my nightstand that I had meant to eat earlier. I had a fleeting memory of one of Zane’s Gulbranak demonstrations of how the metal would combust when brought into contact with any fruit. I felt a glimmer of hope. I knew I had Gulbranak woven into my suit, but was it enough? Was it the right consistency? I turned around and prepared myself to take on two people at once, hoping that my desperate plan would work.

They both began running at me at once, and I quickly tore of a piece of material from the bottom of my jacket, wrapped it around the apple, and hurled it at Mr. Morrison. Nothing happened. The package hit him in the chest and fell to the ground, and he cocked a questioning eyebrow at me. But a moment later there was a small explosion at his feet, causing his pants to catch fire. In the momentary chaos, I kicked the tranquilizer gun out of Mrs. Youngblood’s hand, sending it spinning out the open door. I tried to run past her, but she swept her leg out and knocked me backwards. I saw that Mr. Morrison had put out the fire and it looked like he was retrieving something from Kayla’s pocket. I got on my knees just in time to be knocked back again, this time by a powerful punch in the jaw from Mrs. Youngblood. Mr. Morrison quickly jumped on top of me with dart in hand, and I grabbed his arm before he could stab me in the face with it. We struggled against each other for a few moments, and then Mrs. Youngblood came to assist him in holding me down, and I knew I was about to be overtaken. They were both on top of me, and in the midst of me straining against them, I heard something crinkling in my suit. The zombie powder was still in its place from the presentation gala. I would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire.

I closed my eyes, using every ounce of strength I possessed to keep that dart away from me. I should have paid better attention to Alm’s training sessions, I thought. How did I beat him that one time? Oh yeah, he was distracted.

I opened my eyes. “Mom!” I exclaimed, looking toward the door. It worked. They both turned to look at the empty door, and I was able to reach in my suit and retrieve the powder.

“Nice try,” Mrs. Youngblood grunted, looking back at me, but I was ready. I ripped the bag open and threw it into their eyes first. It probably stung them, because they yelled, which is what I was hoping for, and I quickly threw the rest of the powder into their open mouths. In half a second they both went limp and collapsed on me.

I stayed on the floor for a moment with my attackers on top of me. I was too tired to try to get them off. I heard footsteps coming down the hall and a few moments later my mother and Alm appeared at my door along with half a dozen guards.

“Oh, hey, great timing,” I said, breathing heavily. “Way to show up after the fight’s over.”

“Frederick! Are you alright?” My mom exclaimed, kneeling down to inspect me.

“Yeah, I think so,” I replied, wiggling my feet. Alm and another guard came over to heft the two intruders off of me.

“We were locked in the kitchen by that deceitful woman!” She yelled, pointing to the unconscious figure of Mrs. Youngblood. “Do you know how many PTA meetings I attended with her? And to think I actually invited her over for Christmas one year!”

The guards and Alm looked over Mrs. Youngblood, Mr. Morrison and Kayla, patting them down, apparently looking for more weapons or communication devices. One of the guards pulled a small key from Mrs. Youngblood’s boot. “This is from one of our submarines,” he announced. “They were probably planning on using it to escape with the prince.” Two of the guards left to go investigate the submarine.

“What is this?” Alm asked, wiping some residue of the powder from Mr. Morrison’s mouth.

“Oh, that’s zombie powder from Zane,” I responded. They all looked at me in alarm. “It’s a long story.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” my mother said sternly. “But for now, we need to get the three of them to the holding cells before they wake up.”

“Wait, what do you mean the three of them?” I asked. “Kayla came here to warn me!”

My mother shook her head. “We can’t be sure of that, Frederick. For now, she’s an enemy and a threat.”

I tried to protest, but the guards were already removing her from the room. I stood there, trying to sort through my conflicting feelings. I was glad that I had avoided being kidnapped, but watching them carry Kayla away made me feel even more defeated.

*****

“The girl was clearly gathering information to pass along to her father. Why else would she have been snooping around the house?”

My mom and I were in a small conference room, and Tabitha Dahl was showing us some footage of Kayla peering into the windows of my old house in Indiana. The sight of it made me smile, but I didn’t know why. Maybe it was just the thought that she cared enough about me to come looking for me. The next moment I frowned, remembering that Kayla was confined in a holding cell in the lower part of the castle until the committee could figure out she was innocent. If they decided she was guilty, she’d be shipped off to an awful facility where they had sent her father and Mrs. Youngblood. The idea of it made me shiver. The coronation had been postponed for the following week while they sorted through the aftermath of the recent attack.

“We’ve been wary of the Morrison girl ever since her father first attacked the king over ten years ago,” my mother explained, looking sober.

I swallowed hard. Learning that Mr. Morrison had tried to kill my father in the first place had been pretty shocking, but I still couldn’t believe that Kayla had really been on his side.

“For the most part, the girl’s actions appeared innocent towards Frederick,” my mom continued, “but there were a few instances of suspicious behavior.”

I sighed. It’d been going on like this for the entire day. My mom and Ms. Dahl and the committee going back and forth about what Kayla’s motives might have been.

“Like what?” I asked, feeling exasperated.

“Well, this event, for one,” she replied, gesturing to the video footage. “And there was also the time I came home to find her at the house with you.”

I threw up my hands. “We were working on a project!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, but it didn’t seem necessary that she work on it with you outside of class.”

I rubbed my temples, trying to fend off a headache. Revealing the extent of our relationship would be embarrassing, but it seemed like the only way to convince them of her innocence.

“Kayla came here to warn me,” I repeated for about the tenth time. “I know it might be hard to believe, but she loves me,” I confessed, feeling my face redden. “She... she kissed me.”

My mother’s eyes widened. “When?”

“It was several weeks ago, before I came to Gulbrania.”

“You mean, she kissed you before you... changed?”

“Yes.”

My mom and Tabitha shared a worried look. “That is very suspicious,” my mother said gravely.

“What? Why?”

She gave me a condescending look. “Come on, Frederick, you have to admit that it was highly unlikely that any girl would want to kiss you in that state, especially a girl like Kayla Morrison.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but something stopped me. A sliver of doubt entered my mind. Had it all been an act? A lie?

“The Gulbranak is an extremely valuable resource,” my mom explained, perhaps in an attempt to comfort me. “People have gone to great lengths to get their hands on it.”

I was confused and speechless. Would Kayla really have pretended to have feelings for me to help her father? To get access to the Gulbranak?

“We’ll spend some more time on her case,” Tabitha said softly. “But I would prepare yourself for disappointment.”

My mom and Ms. Dahl left to go to another meeting, and I wandered off to my bedroom. I collapsed on my bed, thinking through all of my interactions with Kayla and trying to find evidence of deceit. She had seemed genuine, but it was weird that she had continued to call and text me after I had left the States. And she had always randomly showed up when I needed help.

I groaned, feeling like some great fist was pounding my heart into a pancake. I had been so euphoric about her feelings for me, and now it seemed that they weren’t real. I absently picked up my phone and saw that I had a text message from Milo.

Hey man! How’s it going?

Not great, I wrote back, feeling the need to confide in someone.

What’s up?

I thought that Kayla liked me, but now I’m not so sure.

You’re right. She doesn’t like you. She LOVES you. She pretty much told me herself.

I don’t know. I think maybe she had ulterior motives.

No way, man. I’m going to send you a video. I took it a few weeks ago.

A few moments later the video file showed up on my phone. I played it and saw a crowd of students in the hallway of the high school, gathered around Kayla, who was shouting something.

“Who’s Frog? How in the world do you not remember him? He was the tall, skinny guy everybody picked on! You turned his skin green!”

“Oh yeah,” Brian Gibbs responded, chuckling, “that was epic.”

“No it wasn’t!” Kayla screamed. “Why can’t you guys just look past someone’s appearance and get to know them! Who are you to decide that someone is beneath you, that someone deserves that kind of treatment? What benefit do you get from tormenting people when you’re not even going to remember them?”

My eyebrows shot up. I was surprised by how passionate Kayla appeared to be and my heart soared at the thought of her defending me. But then again, it could also have just been part of her act.

I glanced at the upper corner of my phone’s screen and noticed that I still had a voice message from a few days ago. I opened it up and listened to it.

“Hey, Frog, this is Kayla. Sorry to bother you, but I just found out that the prince of your country is in danger, and I thought you might be able to warn him somehow. Anyway, just please call me when you get this.”

I couldn’t help smiling. This was helpful.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kayla

“Remember that your population maps are due on Monday,” Mr. Jacobs announced, writing the requirements on the board. “If any of you have questions about the assignment, now is the time to ask.”

A few students stood and approached his desk, while the rest of us busied ourselves with copying down the requirements or engaging in hushed conversation. I looked around the world cultures classroom, my eyes lingering on the empty seat where Frog used to sit.

It had been one week since my adventure in Gulbrania, and for the most part, things were okay, even though I often found myself thinking about my experience there. After I woke up from the sedation, I found myself in a holding cell in the castle, but besides a grisly interrogation from some guy named Alm Hetapats, my stay was actually pretty pleasant. The guards there fed me really great food and always had books and movies to keep me entertained, and they kept me updated on what was happening. I was able to surmise that Mrs. Youngblood was the one who had recruited my father in the first place, and that both of them had been sent to a secure facility on a remote island. My only complaint had been that they never let me see Frog. Eventually someone official came and told me I was free to go home, and they took me on a fancy boat to the nearest airport and sent me back to Indiana. I still hadn’t told my mom the truth about where I had gone, and I didn’t know if I ever would. If she knew, it would probably give her a heart attack.

All things considered, the trip was a success. I had warned the prince, who by some crazy chance had turned out to be Frog, and I had made it back home in one piece. I was incredibly grateful for those circumstances, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit empty.

Every time I thought of Frog, dozens of emotions would surface. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the way that he looked, or the fact that he was a prince, and about to be a king. All I knew was that I still cared about him. But I had to let that go. I hadn’t heard from him since our meeting, and I figured it was because he was busy doing whatever princes do. And sure, he had kissed me and held me close, but maybe he went around kissing lots of girls. I had to forget him, and it was just as well, he was probably a jerk now anyway. Most attractive guys I had encountered were. I was just some girl from his unpleasant past, and he didn’t have time for me. It was okay. We were in two completely different worlds.

But that kiss had been epic. Even the memory of it made my cheeks flush. I had a feeling that kiss would be in my dreams for a long time.

“What are you thinking about?” Miranda asked, nudging my elbow and bringing me out of my daydream.

“Um, nothing,” I replied, blinking my eyes.

Miranda raised an eyebrow. “Well, whatever it was, it made you look a lot happier than you have been in a while.”

“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked in an effort to change the subject.

She smiled and looked down at her hands. “I’m going with Milo to a small comic convention in Indianapolis. Do you want to come?”

I smirked. “No, I’m going to catch up on some schoolwork,” I replied.

The way Milo and Miranda had been getting along was truly inspiring. Miranda had changed a lot and she seemed to have gotten back some of her confidence. It helped that Wyatt had transferred to another school. Apparently, the school board had gotten their hands on some footage that showed what Wyatt did to me on homecoming night, so he had been kicked out of the school district. It was a relief for both me and Miranda to have him gone.

The bell rang and Miranda and I walked out into the hallway where we usually met Milo to go to the cafeteria.

“They’re serving corndogs today!” Milo exclaimed, waggling his eyebrows. “I am so excited!”

I laughed. I wished I could get that excited about corndogs. Milo and Miranda fell into their usual chatter and I walked quietly beside them, letting my thoughts wander to some pastry I had eaten in Gulbrania. Suddenly, I heard someone call my name.

“Kayla Morrison!”

I turned around and froze. There he was, wearing jeans and a sweater and looking as near to perfection as you could get. He walked toward me, and the students in the hallway seemed to part to let him pass. My heart was practically beating out of my chest, but I tried my best to hold my ground and remain calm.

“Kayla Morrison, I am in love you. I have always loved you.”

So much for remaining calm.

“I know I’ve changed,” he continued, glancing down at himself, “in more ways than one. But what has remained constant is the way I feel about you. You are amazing, and I just want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can.”

I grinned and rushed into his arms, and in one movement he lifted me off my feet and kissed me. It seemed like everything else disappeared as I felt his lips on mine, and I was filled with inexplicable happiness, because I knew this kiss would not be the last. Just as I was beginning to get lost in the feel of him, I felt someone pulling on my arm. We broke apart to find Milo cautiously separating us.

“Sorry to break this up,” Milo said, looking uncertainly at Frog, “But she’s in love with my friend, so I think you better back off.”

Frog stepped back and looked at Milo in wonder, then folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “Wow, Milo, thanks for having my back,” he laughed. “That takes a lot of guts.”

Milo furrowed his eyebrows. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Milo, it’s me. It’s Frog.”

Milo’s jaw dropped and he stared at Frog for several moments. But then he squinted and nodded.

“It is you! That’s incredible! What happened? You get bitten by a radioactive spider or something?”

Frog chuckled. “Not quite. It was pills.”

“Really? Can I have some?”

“Trust me, you don’t want them.”

Milo inclined his head. “Fair enough.”

Frog turned back to me. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to come back to Gulbrania with me this weekend?”

I stepped back, a little shocked, but thrilled at the prospect of spending time with him.. “I, um, I’d have to ask my mom.”

“I already asked her,” Frog replied, looking pleased with himself. “She already said yes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Some lady taught me that I should always ask the girl’s parents for permission first.”

“Well, in that case, I’d love to.”

Frog beamed at me and took a step closer. The hallway was practically empty now, leaving just the four of us standing there. “I was also hoping that eventually, you’d like to move there. We have an excellent university and great programs for developing leaders.”

I took a deep breath. It was definitely something I would consider, but it was a little overwhelming. “Do I have to decide right now?”

“No!” Frog exclaimed. “First you’d have to see the whole country and spend enough time there to see if it’s for you. But I think you’re going to love it. There’s really a lot more to it than meets the eye.”

“That seems to be a theme with you,” I said quietly.

Frog blushed, which was undeniably charming, then he glanced back at Milo. “You’re welcome to come to Gulbrania too,” Frog offered.

Milo looked sideways at Miranda, who had been standing there taking everything in with a slightly dazed expression. “Maybe another time,” Milo replied with a small smile. “I’ve got plans this weekend.”

Frog looked between Milo and Miranda, then looked at me for confirmation. I gave him a slight nod.

“Cool,” Frog said simply. “Well, you’re both welcome to come anytime.”

“Thank you,” Miranda responded, looking a bit surprised.

Frog again turned his attention to me. “You ready to go?”

“Right now?”

“Well, you can wait until the end of school if you want, or whenever you’re ready. I’ve got a jet waiting. It’s on the football field.”

I opened my mouth to voice my surprise, but Milo beat me to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He exclaimed. “You’ve got a jet? Who are you?”

Frog shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I’m the prince of Gulbrania.”

Read on for a sample of the first book
in the Neverland 2.0 series:

Peter
Panhandler

Chapter One

Wendy didn’t know why she gave money to that boy. Her father had always told her not to encourage beggars. “It gives them no incentive to work,” he would proclaim, adjusting his bland tie. He always wore a tie, and they were always bland. “There’s no need to facilitate indolence in this city,” he would say with finality as he steered his children away.

Perhaps she had been intrigued by the boy’s sign: LOST MY SHADOW. NEED HELP. It was an unusual plea amongst the other cardboard petitions held by vagrants on the street. Or maybe she had been compelled by his bright green eyes. In the half second that she looked in those eyes she felt like she knew everything about him and yet nothing at all. And the fact that he had made eye contact was unusual, if not a bit unnerving. None of the other beggars ever looked her in the eye, much less smiled at her, but smile at her he did, and before she knew what she was doing she had pulled a few bills from her pocket and dropped them at his feet. She even lingered for a moment to return his clumsy smile before realizing how bizarre the situation was.

She shook her head as she continued down the street. She didn’t have time to wonder about the odd beggar boy on the corner. She didn’t even have time to admire her favorite buildings along her route. Today the new regional inspector, Mrs. Carnivera, was coming to the children’s home where Wendy worked, and if the rumors circulating the city were true, this particular inspector was horrific. Several homes had been closed in the last month due to the near impossible standards imposed by this monstrous woman. Mrs. Nancy had taken on three more children as the other homes scrambled to relocate their wards, so everyone was already under more stress than usual. Mrs. Nancy’s Children’s Home for Boys was reputed as one of the most suitable locations for orphaned and destitute youth in London, and Wendy prayed that they could hold up under Mrs. Carnivera’s formidable scrutiny.

The wind picked up and Wendy pulled the hood of her jacket over her head as she turned onto Barrie Street. She knew it would make her already messy brown hair even more untidy, but these days she didn’t care much about her appearance. Mrs. Nancy’s Children’s Home for Boys stood out from the other buildings on Barrie Street thanks to the hideous mauve shutters that clashed with its dirty red brick. Wendy ran up the crumbling steps and was about to ring the bell when the door was thrown open.

“Miss Wendy! Miss Wendy! The oven exploded!” Trevor sang, his curly red hair flopping up and down as he danced around. “There are ashes everywhere!”

Wendy tried to usher the gleeful toddler inside, but soon Mrs. Nancy appeared in the doorway, her plump figure coated with a layer of ash.

“Wendy! Thank goodness you’re here! Nana has gotten sick all over the stairs, and Eugene is playing in it!”

Usually Wendy would be squeamish about mopping up dog vomit, but today she went quickly to the pantry to fetch some gloves, rags, and solution, and then set to work. When she had finished that task, she continued on to the bedrooms and discovered that while she and Mrs. Nancy had been occupied with the stairs and the oven, two children had upended all of the toy chests and were now playing in the toilet.

“Zachary! Duke!”

The two 6-year-olds gasped and stood at attention.

“Wash your hands and change your clothes right now!” Wendy ordered. The two boys turned around and jostled one another for a turn at the sink. “And when you’re done changing, come back and put those toys away.”

“Yes, Miss Wendy,” they answered, smiling innocently. She gently patted their heads as they ran by. She once again donned her cleaning gloves and hunkered down to wipe the water off the tiled floor. After a few moments Mrs. Nancy bustled in.

“Oh dear! What happened?”

“A couple of rascals thought they were plumbers.”

Mrs. Nancy smiled. She was probably the only person in London who could constantly smile at messes and bad behavior, which, Wendy supposed, was what made her a perfect candidate for running a children’s home.

“Bless them,” Mrs. Nancy sighed, putting her hand on her heart. But in the next instant she became flustered. “Wendy, could you run to the kitchen? Trevor has disabled the security system again.”

Wendy strained her ears and could just make out the faint beeping that indicated the alarm was down.

“Just let me finish this up and I’ll fix it,” Wendy replied.

The kitchen smelled slightly of burned toast and chemicals, but there was otherwise no sign of the disaster that had occurred in the oven. Wendy looked around and spotted a little shoe poking out from underneath the pantry door.

“Trevor?”

“I’m in the space rocket!” Came the muffled voice. “We’re about to launch!”

Wendy snorted and opened the pantry door. Trevor was sitting on a shelf with a salad bowl on his head and two fist fulls of animal shaped crackers. He smiled unabashedly up at her.

“Five, four, three, two, one, blast off!” He shouted and jumped into Wendy’s ready arms. The bowl fell off his head and clanged to the floor, revealing his red curls.

“Trevor!” Wendy laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Why did you shut off the security system again?”

“I was trying to see how it works,” the boy replied, munching on his crackers.

“Would you like to watch me reset it?”

“Yeah!”

Wendy punched in the complicated code and then shut the panel. But before she had a chance to set Trevor down, he reached over, whipped open the panel, and repeated the pattern Wendy had just entered. She stared at him.

“You are one brilliant little man,” she said, tweaking his nose and setting him on the floor. “Now go help the others clean up.”

“Yes, Miss Wendy!” He called as he scampered out of the kitchen.

Wendy sighed. She’d been working for Mrs. Nancy for just over a year, but she’d grown to love these boys as if they were her own little brothers. Zachary and Duke had come in the same week and were endlessly mischievous. These two factors made them inseparable. Matthew, at age 11, was the oldest boy in the house and had lived there the longest. Even though he was quiet and heartbreakingly sensitive, he was uncommonly endearing. And Trevor, who came to Mrs. Nancy three years ago when he was only 2, was in constant danger of being electrocuted. His inquiring and ingenious mind had him pulling apart electronics and devices all over the house, often merging them into some new, perilous invention. Wendy naturally favored him because of his creativity and guileless demeanor, but also because his smile reminded her of her brother Michael.

There were moments when Wendy could almost pretend the accident had never happened. But most of the time the memories lodged themselves in the weakest parts of her heart and spread their tentacles throughout her mind and body, causing a dull and relentless aching. At her worst, Wendy would wake in the middle of the night, consumed with grief and guilt, crying out in incomprehensible pleadings until her mother came to comfort her.

Two years ago, for her fifteenth birthday, Wendy had persuaded her family to go on a cruise to Norway. Her father was the most hesitant, being very concerned about the finances, but he finally conceded after Wendy’s daily begging and promises of how much fun they would all have. She was only concerned about having fun back then.

The trip had started off splendidly. They had reveled in all the food, shows, and activities the ship had to offer. Michael and John had their hearts set on seeing whales, so when they reached Norway, Wendy’s father and brothers joined a whale watching tour while she and her mother explored the city of Bergen. She remembered the magical houses along the shore and laughing with her mother as they tried on silly hats in a shop. One perfect day before her world fell apart.

When they got back to the ship that evening, the whale watching tour had not yet returned. Tensions mounted on the ship as hours passed and the group was still missing. It was past midnight when a local naval authority informed them that the boat had been seized by marauders and everyone on board had been killed.

Wendy was awoken from her dark thoughts by a large, black Newfoundland running into the kitchen and nearly knocking her over.

“Nana!” Wendy exclaimed, kneeling down and scratching the dog’s neck. “What on earth did you eat to make such a mess on the stairs?”

“We gave her some chocolate ice cream last night!” Duke called from the other room.

“And she loved it!” Zachary added proudly.

Mrs. Nancy rushed in, nervously flailing her arms about.

“She’s coming! I saw her in the street! She’ll be here in seconds! Get that dog out of here!”

Matthew, Zachary, and Oliver had followed Mrs. Nancy into the kitchen, curious about the spectacle she was making. Wendy quickly put Nana outside, wiped an unidentifiable green substance off of Zachary’s mouth, and ushered the boys to their rooms. The bell rang twice. Wendy helped Mrs. Nancy dust off the remaining ashes from her yellow dress and stood back as the frazzled woman went to open the door.

Chapter Two

If she didn’t have a name tag and a clip board, Wendy would have thought she was a banshee. Mrs. Carnivera was a truly frightening woman. It’s not that she was ugly, by some angles she was quite attractive, but all of her features combined created an altogether abstract and formidable person. Her black hair stuck out from her head as if she’d recently been electrocuted. Her fierce gray eyes swept slowly from side to side as if hunting for falsities, and they were at odds with her huge smile, which was anything but friendly. She wore a purple dress which revealed a bit too much, and her knee high boots were covered in some type of animal skin. A large pendant resembling a spider web hung from a chain around her neck.

“Please c-come in,” Mrs. Nancy stammered. Mrs. Carnivera took two long strides into the house and turned in a slow circle.

“I suppose you’re the owner of this shelter?” She asked with her back toward Mrs. Nancy.

“Y-yes, I am.”

“How long have you been in operation?”

“Nearly six years.”

“Who is the young lady?”

“That’s m-my employee, Wendy Darling.”

“How many are in your stewardship?”

“There are eight now.”

“Hm.”

Mrs. Carnivera stood silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. Wendy glanced over at Mrs. Nancy, wondering if they should say something. Finally, the intimidating woman turned to face them.

“The space seems adequate,” she stated.

“Thank you,” replied Mrs. Nancy meekly.

“Adequate, but not ideal.”

This rebuke was followed by another long silence, during which Mrs. Carnivera made some laborious notes on her clipboard. She then strode into the kitchen so briskly they had to run to keep up with her.

“Where are your safety locks?” She demanded as she pulled open all of the drawers and cupboards. “What do you use to sanitize your dishes? Are the children on a nutritious diet?”

Mrs. Nancy started to tremble. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Wendy didn’t blame her for being flustered. Mrs. Carnivera looked like a tornado tearing the kitchen apart. Plus, the woman was hard to understand. She had a tendency to start and end her sentences rapidly but slow down in the middle.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Nancy squeaked, “I believe I left the wash running upstairs.” She excused herself and rushed out. Wendy sighed and Mrs. Carnivera turned to her, looking expectant. Wendy stood up straight and stepped forward. She refused to be afraid of this woman. Although, it was a bit easier for her. She didn’t have as much to lose.

“We teach the children to be cautious and trust them to follow through, so we don’t use safety locks, except for some hazardous materials kept in the wash room,” Wendy explained. “The sanitizing supplies are above the sink,” she continued, “and we follow all the dietary guidelines set forth by the city.”

Mrs. Carnivera narrowed her eyes, and Wendy coolly returned the glare. After a subtle grunt, the woman scribbled some notes on her clip board, somehow keeping one eye on Wendy.

“Bring the children,” she ordered brusquely.

Mrs. Nancy, who had apparently been listening just outside of the kitchen, immediately began calling the boys from their rooms. All eight boys ran into the kitchen and lined up in front of Mrs. Carnivera as if they’d practiced it. In fact, Wendy suspected that they had.

Mrs. Carnivera walked deliberately down the row of smiling boys, her expression growing more sour with each child she passed. Suddenly, she whipped around, hunched over and came face to face with Oliver.

“You,” she spat, “do you feel that your needs are being met in this home?”

“No, I need more chocolate,” Oliver replied, matching her intensity.

She wrote another note and turned to Duke. “Do you feel that your voice is heard here?”

Duke furrowed his brow for a moment, but then broke into a smile. “It’s not when I talk like this,” he whispered, “BUT IT IS WHEN I TALK LIKE THIS!” He shouted.

Wendy stifled a giggle. She knew things were not going well, but who would think to ask such questions of young children?

Undeterred, Mrs. Carnivera continued down the line. “Where do you go to school?” She asked Arthur, one of the boys that had come to them last week.

“I go to St. Joseph’s down the street, but Trevor goes to the Ashbury School for the gifted,” Arthur answered, peering at Trevor down the line.

The woman eagerly stepped past Zachary and Eugene to face Trevor. “Are there adequate materials and activities here to suit your interests?” She inquired.

Trevor scratched his nose. “I guess,” he admitted. “I just wish we had more advanced computers to play with. When I take them apart, it’s too easy to put them back together again.”

Mrs. Carnivera stared at him. Who wouldn’t? Not many five-year-olds could dismantle and reassemble a computer, and Trevor had done it multiple times. But the woman wasn’t staring at him in awe. Wendy couldn’t quite read her expression, but she looked almost hungry. After a few moments, Mrs. Carnivera turned her attention to Matthew.

“Do you receive adequate support and education here to excel in your studies?” She barked at him.

Matthew was so startled by her abrupt manner that he fell backwards. Wendy and Mrs. Nancy rushed to help him stand up again.

“Well, answer me, boy,” Mrs. Carnivera demanded.

The lad was shaken, and his lower lip began to tremble. Wendy took his hand to try and soothe him, but Mrs. Carnivera swatted it away.

“Don’t coddle him!” She yelled. “He’s nearly a man, he can answer for himself.”

Matthew looked miserable. He was trying valiantly not to cry, but seemed afraid to open his mouth. Suddenly, Wendy saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she realized what was happening, it was too late.

Nana had appeared at the door and Zachary, likely believing it to be the best course of action, had let her in. Nana immediately bounded over to Mrs. Carnivera, knocking the woman over in her excitement to welcome the stranger.

“Get it off me!” The woman screamed as Nana voraciously licked her face. Matthew tried feebly to remove the dog from Mrs. Carnivera, but Nana persisted. Arthur jumped in and grabbed Nana around the middle to haul her off, which resulted in the dog retching all over Mrs. Carnivera’s face and hair. Now Mrs. Nancy sprang to action, running over to assist the cursing woman, but she slipped on the vomit. She tried to catch her fall by grabbing the oven handle, and the force of her grip ripped the door clean off, sending hastily stashed debris flying into the air.

The boys started laughing and dancing in the chaos and raining ash, and amidst their merriment and Nana’s excited barking, Mrs. Carnivera voiced her extreme displeasure.

“This is the most horrid establishment I have ever encountered!” She screeched. “You will be reported and shut down by the end of the week!” Mrs. Nancy followed the soiled woman as she left, pleading for her to reconsider, but Mrs. Carnivera marched out and slammed the door in her face.

Chapter Three

“Hey kid, this is my corner.”

Peter peered up at the ancient man scowling at him. His beard was so long it brushed against Peter’s nose.

“Your corner?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“How’d you get it?”

The old man snorted. “By being here every day for the last seven years!”

Peter looked down the sidewalk at all of the others stationed with their signs and cups and wondered how long they’d had to sit there to claim those spaces. Sitting in the same place for seven years? It sounded like drudgery. They certainly had an odd way of getting things up here in the Grey World.

“Move along, now,” the old man grunted, “you don’t want me to make a scene.”

Peter stood and stepped away from the man with pirate breath. Sitting there with the sign hadn’t done him much good anyway. He had thought that girl might help him, the one with the tangled hair and the tease in her smile, but she ended up just giving him those two pieces of paper. He pulled them out of his pocket, wondering what they were. They had a woman’s face on them. Maybe it was a picture of someone who could help him? But how could he find her? Would she know where his shadow was? He studied the papers for a few moments, but then decided that the best thing to do was to find that girl. She could at least explain what the things meant. He pulled his fingerprint collector from his jacket and scanned one of the papers. The small screen displayed several sets of prints. He discarded his own and chose the ones that were the most fresh. Peter held the collector out as it scanned the street and surrounding buildings, then the screen duplicated the image and lit up several spots where the device had found matching prints, showing him the direction he needed to go. He was glad he had brought the collector with him, usually he only used it to find Slightly whenever he stole all the rum berries and hid in the trees.

His collector guided him down a maze of streets, picking up the girl’s fingerprints in various places: on the side of a building, on a hand rail, on a sign hanging in front of a toy shop. Peter walked through an alley of tall buildings, shuddering as he quickened his step. The towering structures made him feel trapped.

Peter had only ventured up to the Grey World a few times, but that was far more than the other lost boys, who had never come here. This was mainly because no one ever wanted to leave their home, and usually Peter didn’t either, but sometimes he had an unsettling feeling that he was missing something - that some great adventure was passing him by. He was also the only one who knew how to get to the Grey World, but he didn’t intend for it to be a secret. He would be happy to tell the others if they ever asked him.

The last time he had come up here was... when was it? He couldn’t remember. He just knew that he had encountered something unpleasant involving a badger and had sworn he would never return to the Grey World again. But then his shadow had gone missing, and he tracked it up through the tunnels and into the alley that smelled like ginger until he lost the signal on that large, twisted bridge. He had to get his shadow back. He was growing anxious about all the points he was losing, which would surely compromise their winning streak against the pirates, and he didn’t want to... great lion horns, he thought, what was that smell?

Peter doubled back to a window that displayed delicious looking pastries and breads. Nearly salivating, he walked into the small shop, eying a row of fruit filled doughnuts.

“Can I help you?” Asked a stout man behind the counter.

“Yes!” Peter replied, grateful for the man’s consideration. “I’ve lost my shadow. Have you seen it?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Great,” he muttered, “another cracked one. Probably an addict.”

Peter was about to ask what ‘addict’ meant, but the man had started talking to another person in the shop. Peter shrugged and plucked a blueberry doughnut off of the shelf. The man behind the counter started yelling something as he walked out, but he didn’t know why. He must have been shouting at someone else.

By the time he finished eating his doughnut he had arrived at a door covered in the girl’s fingerprints. He turned the handle to let himself in and found someone inside. It was a lady. She was on a ladder painting the wall. It was a pretty lady, but it wasn’t the girl. And she wasn’t happy to see him. She whipped her head around and screamed. Peter backed up and slammed the door. He heard a loud crash. He considered going back in to see if the lady was okay, but a moment later his concern passed.

He reprogrammed his collector to find the most recent of the girl’s fingerprints instead of the greatest quantity. He backtracked to the street corner where he had been sitting, and then continued on to an area where the streets were narrower and the buildings more crowded. Soon he was standing in front of an oddly colorful house sandwiched in between two dreary buildings. There was quite a lot of noise coming from inside, so he peered in the window and saw the girl sitting on the floor with two young boys who seemed very upset. Peter pushed the window open a bit so he could hear what they were saying.

“But Miss Wendy, where will we go? They’re going to throw us out on the street and we’ll get eaten by the alley monsters!” Exclaimed a red-haired boy.

“No, you won’t, Trevor,” the girl responded. “Mrs. Nancy and I will do everything we can to keep this home, but if we can’t, you’ll just go to another house where they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Will they love me?” The other boy asked piteously.

“Yes, Zachary, I’m sure they will.”

“But I don’t want to go away, Miss Wendy, I want to be with you!” The first boy pleaded. “How will I find you?”

The Wendy girl pulled the boy called Trevor into her lap.

“Do you remember the story of Hansel and Gretel?” She asked.

“Handsome and who?”

“Hansel and Gretel.”

“Are they the ones who got eaten by the wolf?”

“No. When Hansel and Gretel were sent away from their house, Hansel dropped white pebbles along the path so they could find their way back home.”

“I remember!” Piped Zachary. “ They got lost in the woods and found a house made out of candy and a witch wanted to eat them!”

“I’m going to get eaten by a witch?” Wailed Trevor.

“No,” soothed Wendy, “I just think you’re so clever that you’ll figure out a way to find me.”

The boy buried his ginger head into Wendy’s shoulder and she wrapped her arms around him. The scene made Peter smile.

Just then a large black dog jumped at the window and barked in Peter’s face. He stumbled back and fled down the street. The dog reminded him too much of that crazed badger from before. Peter resolved that he would go back to the house later. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he wanted to take that Wendy girl to Neverland.

Read on for a sample
of The Amplified, the
first book in The
Amplified series.

Chapter 1

My brother would make fun of me.

I picture his playful yet condescending expression and manage a smile despite my labored breathing. I run in time to the music coming from my ancient device, pushed along by the rhythm that is so seldom found in our current songs. I try to decide which offense he would attack first.

“Mari, why do you use that relic to listen to music? The Adhesives are so much easier and you don’t have to carry anything...”

True, the Adhesives are easier. One small patch placed on my temple allows me to listen to an hour of music or watch a movie without the hindrance of wires, attachments, or receivers. But I don’t care much for the Adhesives. Once, my friend Alia made me adhere some awful movie about cat-people in love, and I couldn’t make it stop. I just had to let it play through my auditory and optical systems until it ended and the patch dissolved into my skin. I much prefer seeing movies on our old holograph machine.

I pass the school, noting with some satisfaction that I’m just now starting to feel the burn in my legs. Some of the students are having their outside hour. Even from far away I can tell that it’s the older ones, probably 11 or 12-year-olds, lounging on the play equipment and chatting with each other. Younger students would be running around, playing games, and generally expending the energy not yet stifled by years of absorbing information.

I run a little faster to get the school out of my view. I’m glad that I finished all my curriculum last year, trading in the endless barrage of images, educational films and holographic lectures from the Governor for a few months of labor before going away for training. A lot of 15-year-olds complain about the labor. The tasks in the factories and on the farms are a lot more physically demanding than the lethargy of school, but I welcome the change. Plus, it’s nice spending time with my mother when we harvest.

I’ve left the paved streets of our compound, and now my feet thump on the welcome expanse of soft dirt. I take in the landscape, so dry and vast, stretching out for miles with the occasional jagged hill jutting out defiantly to break up the flatness. I suppose it’s a good reminder that even though we’re all trying to be the same, there are still some of us that stick out. Sometimes it really is incredible to think that we’ve managed to survive in this environment for so long; a feat that likely would not have been possible without the Amplifiers.

I try to hold my breath as I run through a cloud of dust, but some particles find their way into my nose and I choke anyway. I dig into the pocket of my shorts to find my Hydration capsule and swallow it between coughing fits. Immediately the dryness in my throat subsides and I feel the simulated liquid spreading throughout my body. I’m glad, I need the energy I lost from hacking the dirt out of my lungs.

Peering ahead, I see the culprit of the dust cloud; that huge, stupid, Mall-cruiser. I never take it to the city if I can help it. I guess the arenas, capsule bars and sleeping pods would seem like an attractive way to travel for some people, but to me it just seems dull; lumbering along at a snail’s pace, watching everyone try to entertain themselves. It’s for people who like to waste time. And I rarely have time to waste.

I’m running parallel to the Mall-cruiser in no time, and I hear some children shouting insults out the open windows.

“Where are you running to, chicken legs?”

“Hope you’re racing off to find a shower, you dirty clam!”

I put on my most menacing face and sprint right up to the windows. The children scream and cower beneath the glass, their insolence now completely extinguished in their fear. I beat on the panes a few times for good measure, and hear some strangled yelps as I pull away. I would laugh if it didn’t throw off my breathing pattern, so instead I settle for a feeling of smug satisfaction.

I can just see the outline of the city, the towering center of what some call our spider Community. From the air barges, you would be able to see the Mall-cruiser tracks stretching out like skinny legs from the metropolis to the surrounding eight compounds, all labeled by one letter of the word “equality.” I remember seeing all the images of the compounds in school. They all looked pretty much the same, but when the image of our compound, Compound Q, would come up, somehow we recognized it, and we would all cheer. It seems an odd thing to have done, especially now that I’m feeling less and less attached to my compound.

Reaching the city limits, I glance up at the massive clock looming over the old hospital. 11:37. Right on time. The soldiers should be arriving in a few minutes. I run past the control tower and blow a kiss to the guards stationed there. They don’t react, as always. Stoic expressions and rigid posture are characteristic of this post. Once, when we were younger, my brother and I put hats and sunglasses on the tower guards. They didn’t move. But it was a particularly hot day so I think they might have been grateful. Luckily, nobody has to stay in that position for too long at a time. The motionless guards there today might be foremen at the factories or entertainers at the clubs next week, depending or their work rotation. Everyone alternates their labor positions. Except the Restrainers, of course.

With the landing park in sight, I sprint the last hundred yards or so and collapse on a bench near the waiting zone. I breathe heavily and people stare at me, but I’m used to it. I already stand out among the workers in my T-shirt and shorts, but it’s also unusual to see anyone in the city exert themselves. Or sweat. I stretch out my legs and slump back on the bench, closing my eyes and turning my face to the sun. It’s a beautiful day, my brother is returning from Service, and in a couple weeks I’ll be Amplified.

Life is good.

Chapter 2

I’m alarmed by the sudden darkness until I open my eyes and realize the air barge is flying overhead. The barge is about as big as the city and completely shuts out the sun. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust, but soon I can see them. Soldiers jump off the edge of the barge and plummet toward the ground. The sirens come on to clear the landing park, but there’s really no need. Anytime an air barge flies over, the slick, grated floor of the park is immediately vacated.

I crane my neck and watch in awe as the soldiers fall, some performing intricate acrobatics as they fly through the air. As they near the landing park, the turbines start to whir, forcing massive gusts of air through the grates and sending errant pieces of trash left in the park shooting into the sky. If I watch closely, I can see the point where the turbines take effect. There’s a slight jerk as the soldiers hit the turbine’s threshold, which begins the slowing of their descent.

I’ve watched people land in the park dozens of times, but it still fascinates me. The smallest movement of a hand or a foot sends them sailing or spiraling in a different direction. Soon, they’re all hovering about 40 yards up in the air where the force of the turbines hold them safely. Finally, the great machines power down and the soldiers, almost in unison, float toward the ground.

The siren ceases and all of us in the waiting zone quickly step forward into the park. There aren’t many people greeting the returned soldiers. I suspect most of their family and friends are still traveling here on the Mall-cruiser. I search for my brother among all the unfamiliar faces. Somehow, all the soldiers look the same; immaculately fit young women and men, dressed in the same gray uniforms, carrying themselves with the confidence characteristic of the Amplified. It’s hard to believe they’re all only nineteen years old.

How am I going to recognize him? I think. It’s been almost four years. The last time I saw my brother was in the week-long break between his Training and the beginning of his Service. He spent almost the entire time running up the walls, jumping off the roof, and generally scaring my poor mother to death. It was incredible. From that time on, I became obsessed with Amplification.

I turn around and accidentally run into a tall female soldier.

“Watch where you’re going, little girl!” She yells condescendingly. I feel my cheeks get hot, but I manage to mumble an apology before turning away. Little girl? I’m fifteen years old! But as I look at the hundreds of impressive soldiers around me, I realize how small I feel.

I’m starting to get frustrated, wondering now if I should have just stayed at home and waited for my brother to get there. At this point, he may have already started heading out of the city. I catch a glimpse of a face that could belong to my brother. I start heading in that direction when I hear someone behind me.

“Mari?”

“Adrian! Wait... Adrian?”

I turn and see the biggest version of my brother I could have ever imagined. He has my brother’s dark hair and mischievous smile, but in the place of his once-lanky physique are bulging muscles. His young, 19-year old face looks out of place above his thick neck. But before I can fully process his transformation, he’s enveloped me with his massive arms and pulled me off the ground. I suppose this is what people mean by a “bear hug.”

“Hey little sis!” He bellows in my ear, his voice markedly deeper. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Sure I have! Maybe not as much as you... what did you do, swallow a lion?”

Adrian chuckles as he sets me back down on the ground. He glances down at his body, clearly pleased with himself, but still attempts to be modest.

“Something like that. Just a lot of Protein and compulsory weight training.”

I don’t know what he means by “Protein,” it must have something to do with the different capsules they ingest during Service.

“Well, it’s good to see you again ... all of you,” I say as I stand back and look at my brother one more time. “Come on, let’s get home. Mom and Daniel are so excited that you’re back!”

“I’m excited to see them,” Adrian admits. We’ve started walking out of the landing park. “What’s Daniel like now? I guess he’s grown up a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s a fireball. Quite the independent 8-year old,” I respond. “Oh, you won’t believe this! Last week he took all of the blankets and camped out-”

“When does the next Mall-cruiser get here?” Adrian interrupts.

“Mall-cruiser? I don’t know, I thought we’d just run home.”

“Run? Are you kidding? How far is that?”

“About twelve miles. It’s not a big deal, I ran here.”

“Sounds like torture.”

“Well, sometimes it is, but then I just feel that much better when I’m done.”

Adrian gives me an exasperated look, an expression that I remember from countless arguments similar to this one.

“Mari, why do you try so hard?”

“Because I’m not content to sit around and do nothing until I get Amplified.”

Adrian smiles and shakes his head.

“I guess you really haven’t changed much, have you?”

“Guess not.”

After a lot of coercion, Adrian finally persuades me to take the Mall-cruiser with him. It’s full of returned soldiers and their families, as well as a bunch of loiterers who are probably in the free week of their work rotation. Several girls eye my brother as we pass. I glance at him and see that he’s smiling. Maybe this is why he wanted to ride the Mall-cruiser, more opportunities to show off his rippling muscles. Or maybe it’s the arenas; the huge, dome-like rooms where the Amplified challenge each other. My brother looks wistfully at the closed doors, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. It’s not a written rule that only the Amplified are allowed in the arenas, because that would be in violation of the Equality Movement, but everyone knows that’s how it is anyway. There are no windows, but from the cheering, thumping, and occasional bloodcurdling scream, I can imagine what’s going on in there.

We end up in one of the many capsule bars. This one has some kind of tacky jungle theme. We weave through fake vines and sit down at a small table. A bored-looking waiter dutifully approaches us and holds out his Transcriber. We each place our hands on the screen, and the waiter reads out our information.

“Quillen, Marianna.” I flinch at the sound of my full name. “Age 15. Not Amplified. Approved for all non-intoxicating capsules.” I bristle even more. I don’t need some stupid electronic menu reminding me of my Amplification status. The waiter turns to my brother.

“Quillen, Adrian. Age 19. Amplified. Approved for all capsules.”

“Great,” Adrian replies. “I’ll have a Twisted Shark Bait.”

I roll my eyes. Leave it to my brother to order one of the fancy capsules. The waiter eyes me expectantly.

“I’ll just have a Hydration.”

“Which flavor?”

Which flavor? It really has been a long time since I’ve been on this stupid cruiser.

“Uh, just regular.”

The waiter sighs. Apparently I’ve just made his job as mundane as possible.

“Please note that these will be taken out of your weekly rations.”

The waiter leaves and I turn back to Adrian. I have thousands of questions.

“So tell me about the last 4 years! How was your Service?”

Adrian’s eyes light up as he leans forward.

“Oh man, Mari, Amplification really is as amazing as everyone says. I mean, you can do anything! The Service itself was actually pretty lame, mostly guarding the prisons and tagging animals. The only exciting part was when we battled the Dissenters.”

Normally, mention of a battle would make me nervous. But I remember the images of the Dissenters from school; dull, idiotic-looking people with missing teeth, brandishing their primitive weapons. The battles are hardly fair, with the Dissenters being so thoroughly outmatched, but they keep persisting. I still wonder why anyone would want to get rid of the Amplifiers. Seems like the best thing in the world to me.

“Last year, there was a group of Dissenters trying to infiltrate the Activation Base,” Adrian continues, “and we had them surrounded before they even crossed the perimeter. But then one of them-”

Adrian’s story is interrupted by a burst of yelling and a loud cracking sound from across the bar. A large soldier has just thrown an older man, probably about 65 years old, onto a table, splitting it in two. The soldier rushes at the man again, his victim trying to scramble away from the wreckage of the table, but he’s too slow. The soldier gives himself an unintelligible command and grabs the older man by the ankles, swinging him around while screaming:

“You wanna bet against Amplification again, old man?”

The soldier finally swings the older man up above his head with astonishing strength, then slams him to the ground. The old man moans as the soldier steps over him and walks out of the bar.

Horrified, I rush over to the man crumpled on the floor. He has a few scrapes, and his leg is curled at an irregular angle.

“Adrian, help him!” I plead.

“Ah, he probably deserved it.”

I stare at him in disbelief, trying to figure out if he’s joking. He stands with his arms folded across his chest, looking unconcerned.

“Adrian!” I hiss, willing my brother to snap out of his indifference.

“Fine,” he concedes reluctantly and kneels down beside the man. “Adrian, assess the victim’s injuries,” he commands himself. I can see my brother’s body relax as the Amplifier takes over. He moves his hands expertly over the man’s body, pausing at a few areas. Adrian addresses the old man.

“Sir, your hip has been dislocated. Would you like me to fix it?”

“Yes!” The man wheezes pitifully. “Please.”

Adrian grimaces and again accesses his Amplifier.

“Adrian, reset the joint.”

He slowly pulls the man’s knee up and rocks it back and forth, then quickly jerks the entire upper leg away from the floor, causing a satisfying popping sound. The old man exhales, clearly relieved of the worst of his pain. He looks over at Adrian.

“Thank you for helping me, thank you so much.” He murmurs over and over. Adrian doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look at the man. He just stands and walks away.

“What was that all about?” I mutter to Adrian once I catch up with him outside the bar.

“What?” He answers innocently.

“Oh, so I guess I’m supposed to believe you’re always a selfish, unwilling jerk?”

Adrian’s face hardens and he pulls me into the nearest vacant sleeping pod.

“It’s just that... the guy wasn’t Amplified.”

“Neither is mom, are you gonna leave her for dead when someone attacks her too?”

“No! It’s different with mom, I just...” He trails off, realizing he has no solid argument. After a long pause he looks up at me, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “Four years in the Service will make you think differently about certain people, ok?”

No, I think, It’s not ok. I sit down on the small bed and think about the years of taunts and bullying I endured because I was the child of a clam, a stupid nickname for people who aren’t Amplified. Those early years of trying to fight off several kids at one time, often kids that were a lot bigger than me. With no adults at the school, it was easy for them to get away with stuff like that. The closest thing to authority were the cameras mounted everywhere, but we didn’t know if anyone was watching on the other end, or if they even cared.

Our teachers at school were the images, the projections, and the occasional holographic appearance of the Governor. My classmates used to say that if you walked through the hologram of Governor Plenaris, you would die. So one day I walked up and stuck my hand into the edge of the hologram. I didn’t die, but it seared off the tip of my right index finger. It was incredibly painful, but I just went back to my seat, determined not to cry or show any weakness. That was the day the kids at my school stopped bothering me.

I rub the shortened tip of that finger as I stare out the tiny window of the sleeping pod. Adrian is leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, but I know he’s not asleep. I wonder what other changes he might have made underneath all those new muscles, what kinds of experiences drove him to share the same sentiments as people who shout insults at strangers from the Mall-cruiser and beat up defenseless old men in bars. Will I come back with those opinions after my four years of Service?

“Hey Mari,” Adrian murmurs, his eyes still closed, “do you remember when we used to mess with the control tower guards?”

I smile in spite of myself.

“Yeah, those were good times.”

As soon as we turn the corner onto our street, I see my younger brother Daniel jump up from our front porch and start bounding toward us.

“A-A-Adrian!” He yells in that heartbreaking stutter. It’s actually kind of endearing. I’m not really looking forward to his Amplification when he’ll likely find a way to fix it. Daniel slams right into Adrian and wraps his arms around his older brother’s trunk-like legs. Adrian reaches down to tousle Daniel’s stick-straight brown hair. They marvel at one another’s transformations as they approach the house. I see Adrian’s playful expression change when he sees our mother leaning against the doorframe.

She is still a beautiful woman. Age and worry have etched a few lines into her tan skin and woven some gray streaks into her long, dark hair, but I’ve noticed the way some of the men at the farm look at her. I know she can always feel their stares.

She opens her arms wide as we approach, her vacant eyes searching the air in front of her.

“Where is my first born?” She jokes lightly, smiling as she waits expectantly.

“Right here, mom,” Adrian replies, moving into her embrace.

“Adrian!” My mother exclaims. “You left here a boy and came back a ... bear!” She feels his arms, shoulders, and face, letting her hands see what her eyes cannot.

“Ah, mom, it’s not a big deal,” Adrian dodges sheepishly.

“Yes it is!” Daniel pipes up. “He’s three t-times the size he w-w-was when he left!”

I notice Adrian is actually starting to feel self-conscious, so I change the subject.

“Hey, all of Adrian’s belongings from Service arrived this morning, right?”

Daniel lights up.

“That’s right! I’ve been d-dying to go through them but mom m-made me wait!” He ducks into the house, pulling Adrian in with him. “C-c-come on, Adrian, you’ve g-g-g-got to show m-me everything!”

Mom sighs as her sons pass by. I take her elbow to lead her into the house, even though she rarely needs guidance.

“He’s changed,” she remarks.

“Yeah, he’s gotten big.”

“Hm. That too.”

I always marvel at how much my mother can see in spite of her blindness.